


Walk A Crooked Mile

by ryttu3k



Category: Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, The Legend of Zelda
Genre: Aftermath, Coming of Age, Developing Relationship, F/F, Female Protagonist, Leadership, POV Female Character, Politics, Post-Canon, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:06:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 49,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1753737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryttu3k/pseuds/ryttu3k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has been saved, but the challenge doesn't end there. With Ganondorf defeated and safely sealed away, Princess Zelda faces a land in desperate need of recovery, compassionate policies, and a strong leader. But a sixteen-year-old who has spent seven years in exile probably isn't exactly what they had in mind, and both Zelda and Hyrule itself is going to be facing an uphill battle to find peace...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Truth or Dare

She was alone.

Link was gone, whisked away by time itself, the time that she had wielded herself as she had sent one of the only ones who could have understood, who knew what the world had faced, who knew how badly damaged Hyrule had been by virtue of knowing the one who had done it. Time energy fizzled against her skin, frizzed against her hair as she released the illusion of blue skies and white clouds, a peaceful moment in the sky to contrast with the horror of the battlefield.

And Sheik was gone, the constant voice in her head for the past seven years, a companion who had seen everything her eyes had seen, who had been her protector as she hid within the shape he had held. He had come to her from the edges of death and time itself to keep her safe, he had been her rock, and now the space in her mind which was uniquely _him_ had gone silent and empty and cold.

And Impa was gone, the woman who had been a mother, a protector, and a friend to a lonely little girl hiding away in her castle garden. She had been the one to tuck her in at night after her own mother had passed away, the one who had patched up scraped knees and kissed bee stings when the flowers had proven to be too much of a temptation. She had been the only one to listen and to truly understand that the dreams she had were a truth, one that could not be ignored. She had been the one who had ensured that she hadn't lost her life as a child, the one who had whisked her away after her father's death, the one who had kept her and Sheik alive for seven very long years.

And her father was gone, something that Ganondorf had guaranteed the moment he had heard legends of the Triforce. She could remember gentle hands lifting her on to his lap to tell her a rare story, a stolen moment between endless duty. She remembered a father who had been distant, but kind. But here, in what remained of the castle, she could still see him slumped against the throne. She could see herself, sobbing over her father's body, the ocarina clutched in her white-knuckled hands.

Blindly, she glanced down at the ocarina, the gloves hiding her white knuckles but not the faint tremors running through her hands.

Zelda was alone.

Exhaling unsteadily, she set one hand against the ground, making a valiant attempt at pushing herself to her feet. This certainly was not comfortable, collapsed against rubble, the heat and steam and noxious fumes from the pool that the castle had crumpled on top of making her eyes smart and her nose burn. Little bits of broken stone dug into her legs, her dress torn and filthy from their escape, her hair coming free from where it had been tied back.

No, she was not at all sure she could stand, not yet. Shakily, she lifted her hand from the ground, brushed it absently against her dress to dislodge the bits of stone that had clung to the glove, raised her hand to ensure that the tiara still sat upon her forehead.

She was alone, but at least she had her mother's tiara, her family's ocarina. She had her heritage burning in her veins, the experiences that had brought her to this point. She had the Triforce of Wisdom, and the hand clutching the ocarina in a death grip rose to her chest, pressing the instrument against her heart, exhaling and inhaling and exhaling again.

Now, she could recognise the benefits of being alone. Being alone meant no one could see her like this, a terrified child huddled in a dirty gown on the ground, unable to bring herself to stand. She could feel dampness against her cheeks and did not know whether it was her eyes watering from the fumes or from fear and grief and exhaustion and simply not knowing what to do. Alone on what remained of Ganondorf's castle, trying hard not to think about the remains of Ganondorf's monsters squashed beneath her from the collapse (or, worse, the idea that they actually had managed to get away in time), Zelda bowed her head and struggled to breathe evenly.

The fairy fountain. There was one in the castle grounds, if she recalled correctly - she had stolen away there before, as a child exploring the gardens, the guards keeping a wary eye on her to ensure that she did not manage to get past the gates (again). Now, she pushed herself to her feet with a suddenness that left her swaying in sudden vertigo, the ground tipping beneath her as she forced one foot in front of the other.

There. The collapse of the abomination that Ganondorf had called a castle had not laid waste to it, save to toss blocks the size of houses around like they were nothing. The entrance was still there, still just big enough for a smallish teenager to crawl inside.

Here, it was calm and quiet, not quite warm but certainly better than being outside in the bitter wind and choking air. Zelda tried to stand again, didn't quite make it, and instead inched her way forward to the golden Triforce emblem embedded in the ground, her eyes closing as she took comfort from the cool, solid, reassuringly intact tiles.

She could speak to the Great Fairy, she thought muzzily, have her injuries healed, play the song and summon her forth...

But the ocarina remained in her lap, her hands wrapped around it, half buried in the tattered skirt. She could call the Great Fairy... or she could sleep, and let herself heal from hurt and grief, rising again stronger and more able to face the world, to be the leader Hyrule needed.

She slept.

 

Barely an hour had passed by the time Zelda stirred again, aching from falling asleep sitting up and propped up against tiles. With a wince, she stretched, shifting her shoulders beneath the armour - tonight, she wanted to be sleeping in a bed.

And then she stopped, because she did not know of any beds she could plausibly finding herself sleeping in.

She had revealed herself to Link and Link alone at the Temple of Time - well, to Link and the fairy that accompanied him to every last step. But no one else knew of her return - no one else would expect a ragged princess to walk out of the ruins of Ganondorf's castle. She had made no plans past this, no world had existed in her mind beyond _see Link, give him the Light Arrows, defeat and seal Ganondorf_.

She had made plans to save the world, and Link had done precisely that. But she had neglected to realise that the world they had saved was the one she would have to live in, and that the image she had held for seven long years - that they would stop Ganondorf and everything would be alright again - was, apparently, not quite reflective of the truth.

What _was_ the truth, then? Closing her eyes, Zelda took stock of the situation, settling back more comfortably against the tiles, trying hard to ignore the ache between her shoulder blades from the position she had slept in.

This was a truth - Ganondorf was sealed away.

Here was another truth - Link was gone. She had returned him to the past, where he would change time, create a future where the Seven Year War had never happened.

And there was a third truth - she was alone in what was left of Ganondorf's castle - no, fortress was a better word. She had the Triforce of Wisdom in one hand, and the Ocarina of Time in the other. She had her mother's tiara, a ruined dress, and a sore back, aching muscles, and bruises.

Sheik was gone from her mind, that was another truth. He had known he would return to death at the moment that she was to return, and her face fell - this was another death on her hands, one she would have to mourn.

But he would not have wanted her to give up. That was certainly a truth.

Impa, too, and here was an uncertainty and not a truth. Impa had awakened as the Sage of Shadows, she knew that well enough, had sensed it the moment it had happened from within her and Sheik's shared mind - as the leader of the sages, she had felt every single one. But was she gone for good? Surely, if she really was meant to be the leader of the sages, she could make contact with them somehow?

Closing her eyes, she focused, trying desperately to bring to mind the image of Impa's features. They swam into view and remained there, a static image that was a pale imitation of the real thing.

Still, that did not mean she was completely inaccessible. Quietly, Zelda marked off 'the Sages are gone' as an uncertainty, not a truth.

What other truths did she have, then?

She needed sleep, she needed her admittedly minor injuries to be healed, and she needed a solid meal. She was weak and she knew it, her muscles trembling at the slightest exertion - while Link had had the buffer of the Sacred Realm keeping his limbs strong as he had slept for seven years, the magic that had bounded her to Sheik, that had shifted her limbs into his own, her face into his, was a lesser power. When she had been restored, she had been restored as weak as a kitten, barely able to stand on her own two legs, the flight out of the castle fuelled purely by terror and adrenaline and a productive panic that they had to get away at any cost.

With that urgency gone, she was simply exhausted.

But she also could not stay where she was, and that was also a truth. The fairy fountain was certainly secure, that was true, and could heal her injuries (although not her weakness - that was something that would require long rehabilitation, and she winced fractionally at the need to heal her body as well as heal her country). But there was no food here, and no water she could drink without letting fairy magic get to her, and it was with no small amount of effort that she finally managed to get to her feet again.

So far, so good.

What would await her outside? Uncertainly, Zelda peered out the gap leading back to the castle grounds, biting her lip a little. What if there were ReDeads out there, like the ones that had infested the town? Or Stalfos, or Lizalfos, or, even more terrifyingly, Iron Knuckles?

Their master was gone, but what would they make of their enemy, the princess, on her own and vulnerable?

Closing her eyes for a moment, she counted to ten, then let her breath out slowly. Not all was lost, even if she was having difficulty walking in a straight line at the moment. She still had magic, at least a smidgeon of it - if all else failed, she could use Nayru's blessing, produce a shield long enough to escape an enemy.

At least, she hoped she could.

"Right," she murmured to herself, almost starting at the sound of her own voice, setting her shoulders and wriggling through the entrance to the fountain.

The grounds, as far as she could tell, were deserted, save for a single guay circling far above. They had been used as spies for Ganondorf, Impa had explained to her once, and she glanced at it warily - but no, there was no one to answer to now.

Or - was there? Surely there had been others to serve directly under him, others who were more than just animated skeletons or armour or reptilian beasts? The thought made her waver a little, pause in her slow progression down the road that led in to Castle Town. What waited for her there?

What could be coming up from behind her?

Maybe they had all died in the castle collapse. Taking another uncertain step, she glanced back over her shoulder. But she and Link had escaped, and they had been near the very top... surely that would have left enough time for anyone else to get out?

She longed for Sheik to return to her, to shield her from view and to move quickly and easily away from anything that would cause her harm. She longed for Impa, spiriting a frightened child away to safety. She longed for Link, guiding the way with a blazingly bright sword in her hand.

But, more than that, she longed for the past, envied the Zelda that she had sent Link back to, a Zelda who would not know an adolescence in hiding, seven years in a body that was not her own, not really, not at all. She envied the child she could picture in the garden, one whose father was alive and who still had Impa at her side.

And then she stopped herself, shaking her head with an exasperated sigh. Envying her past self - what had she come to?

Belatedly, she realised she had stopped in the middle of the road and hurried onwards, moving more towards the sheer walls that rose on either side. At least she wouldn't be spotted immediately - or, at least, the inevitable of someone spotting her would take place a fraction slower than it otherwise would have had she remained in the middle of the road. Palest pink, almost white, was probably not the wisest choice to wear - a dark hooded cloak, to hid her light clothing and hair, would not have gone amiss.

She was still thinking of a survivalist.

Ganondorf was gone, wasn't he? He had no more power, and his followers did not seem to be making themselves present, if they even existed. Why shouldn't she stride down the road from the grounds of her former home into the town she had visited many a time as a child? Why would she need a dark hooded cloak to hide herself from prying eyes, when she had been born to be a light to Hyrule?

Was that what she had to do now? Zelda had been aware of her birthright from the earliest memory she possessed, and yet she could not give an answer on how, precisely, that was to be done.

"One thing at a time," she whispered, steeling herself as she dared to cross the last few metres to the boundary of the town. Castle Town was wide, spreading far on either side of the gate and the main road, but narrow - she would need only cross the marketplace to be on the outer road leading to the gate.

And from there onwards was the rest of Hyrule.

She would venture to Kakariko Village, she decided, shivering involuntarily as the wind picked up a fraction. That was where the people were, the only logical choice left, and she amused herself briefly with the mental image of the guard's reaction when Hyrule's lost princess strode up the stairs to the town.

Or, at least, she corrected herself with a glance up at the sky, she'd find the first sheltered patch and sleep. The afternoon was already old, and it was becoming cold - while the days still held some semblance of warmth, autumn was beginning to bring a chill in the air at night. It would not be long until the first frosts began, and when that happened, she really would need proper shelter.

There was long grass growing near the castle gates, a semi-secure area with walls on three sides, protected from the worst of the wind unless it was sadistic enough to blow due North. She could sleep there, using some of the grass to rest her head and some to cover herself. She would be hidden there, no prying eyes able to find her unless they were looking straight down (and even then, she hoped the grass would hide her). It would even be soft - or, at least, softer than sleeping out in the open.

There was, of course, the Temple of Time. But that brought no comfort - it would be only frigid marble she would find there, and it was still a little too close to the market that had once swarmed with ReDeads.

And Ganondorf had already found her once there. It would be some time before she could remain there comfortably without the memory of crystal the colour of watery blood closing in around her.

Here was the market place, and Zelda drew in a careful breath as she scanned it. The sun had broken through the clouds that had lidded the town for the past seven years, and that had brought changes - the ReDeads, unable to tolerate the sunlight, had crumpled into harmless, if rather disgusting, corpses. They were no more trouble.

The guays feeding on the former ReDeads, however... they could be an issue. Carefully, Zelda's hand tightened around a branch fallen from a dead tree that had once shaded the path with thick green leaves and she ventured into the town, sticking close to the edges.

It wouldn't take long. She could already see the avenue and its haunted guard house, and beyond that... beyond that, a tempting smear of green, the promise of freedom.

She had run the last few metres, almost plunging into the moat surrounding the town in the process and saving herself at the last moment, her skirts still dipping into the cold water.

But it was clean water, and she was out, out in the green field with the setting sun giving off the last of its warmth for the day, and as Zelda stumbled for the long grass where she would take her rest for the night, she was already feeling lighter.


	2. A Hole in the Clouds

_Across the land, there are clouds._

_It is not an unfamiliar sight to her - she can well recall dark clouds shrouding the land, roiling ominously, churning with the promise of rain, of snow, of a storm without end. Those clouds were a threat, something to be broken only by a sliver of light from the forest, the image of a boy with golden hair and a gleaming green stone in his hands who parted the clouds with a ray of light._

_These clouds, though..._

_These clouds, somehow, feel different. Certainly, they are grey - but they do not churn like the storm clouds from her childhood dreams. Certainly, they cover the sky - but they seem almost patchy in places, parts that are more white than grey, indication of a sun that exists beyond their heights._

_But these clouds feel oppressive, not threatening. The sun is beyond them, yes, but it is a tantalising hint only, and the occasional glimpses of blue skies she can see as they part and come together again are few and far between. This is a lid on the world, a gap between herself and the sun._

_She stretches her hand upwards, and the clouds swirl around her fingers. When she lowers her hand, a hole remains, a gap in the lid, clear blue beyond it._

_But how does she get up there? Her fingers leave ripples in their wake, revealing blue, revealing sunlight, but the clouds close over the spaces left behind as she moves on._

_How does she get rid of the clouds?_

_How does she make the sky blue again?_

_How...?_

"You _have_ got yourself in a pickle, huh?"

Zelda started awake, so violently she was surprised when her flailing arms did not strike anything. The long grass she had fallen asleep in did shield her from view, but it also had the less desirable side effect of shielding her own view - for a long moment, she searched for whatever had caused the noise, for the mysterious speaker.

Almost holding her breath, she waited for them to speak again.

It did not come, only quiet little murmurs and hushing noises, almost inaudible even to her ears. There was no immediate threat, no Iron Knuckle swinging an axe at her, no mercenary leering as he hefted a knife to collect the bounty on her head. Slowly, Zelda let her breath out.

 _Take stock of the situation,_ Sheik's memory gently reminded her, and she nodded (either to herself or to him, she could not say).

It was night, that much was abundantly obvious - the sky above was dark, a few clouds drifting across the deep blue, occasionally obscuring stars. But when? The moon was still low - only an hour after it had risen, perhaps.

It seemed that a few hours of uninterrupted sleep was going to be more difficult than she had anticipated.

The voice she had heard before - if she listened closely, straining her hearing to its limit, she could make it out again. It was a girl, or perhaps a young boy - gentle, almost musical, a soft laugh escaping the voice's source. She (it seemed safest, for now, to assume it was a girl or a young woman) was speaking to someone who she could not hear the voice of herself, just the sound of something she thought she had forgotten.

Closing her eyes, Zelda listened hard.

"- wandering around here on your own, huh? You could have been hurt! And - oh, _look_ , you've got sand all over you - were you in the desert? It's dangerous there!"

An animal, perhaps? Eyes still shut, Zelda frowned before being rewarded by the sound of a snort, one she could now recognise.

A horse.

Who kept horses? The ranch in the middle of the field did, she knew that much. There were horses stabled near Kakariko Village, in the outer buildings before the long climb upwards (horses not being terribly fond of steep mountain staircases, for reasons that were obvious to most). And she had seen horses near the lake on occasions, Sheik's eyes carefully narrowed as he had attempted to avoid being detected by the sensitive creatures.

Someone from Kakariko, perhaps? Or maybe someone from the ranch?

And then the owner of the mysterious voice sighed and began to sing, and Zelda's head jerked up in recognition.

She knew that voice - she had heard it as a child, a few soft notes as she had lain in her bed at night.

The song stopped, and the horse let out a more gentle nicker, the girl chuckling. "That's it. That's it, Epona, it's okay now..." There was a sigh, the sound of a hand brushing against something solid. "There's a good girl. You're with me now, you see? You're safe." There was worry in her voice, even through her next words - "Why aren't you with Link, huh? Where did he go? Did he leave you here alone?"

No, Zelda thought with an aching pang of guilt, she had. She had been the one to leave Link's horse - because of course that was who Epona was, of course that was why she was wandering alone - in the field, at night, potentially with monsters around.

If this girl knew Link, if she knew his horse, if her voice and her song was hauntingly familiar... then, perhaps, she was someone safe. More deliberately, Zelda moved, allowing the long stalks of grass to rustle against each other as she carefully rolled into a kneeling position, a precursor to standing.

The girl gasped sharply, and Zelda could almost hear her skirts whipping around. "Who - who's there?" she called out, her voice trembling. "Stay back - I'm armed!"

"You won't need your weapons," Zelda returned, keeping her voice as steady and as regal as she could. "I don't mean you any harm."

And she stood, her searching gaze landing upon a girl her own age, her eyes wide and startled, clad in the sturdy clothing of ranch workers, a brooch at her throat bearing one of the symbols of Lon Lon Ranch. Behind her stood a horse, a beautiful thing that was staring at her curiously.

 _Talon's daughter,_ her mind filled in, recalling the man who delivered the milk to the castle, the owner of the ranch, someone she had met a handful of times in her childhood. Tentatively, she smiled.

Now, the girl's eyes were wide, but for a rather different reason than simple fear. Her gaze dropped to the dress she wore, the golden ornamentation, then rose to the tiara on Zelda's forehead, straying to her tangled hair, her bruises and scrapes, the ragged state of her clothing.

"You're -" the girl started, her hands flying to her mouth. For a moment, she simply gawked - before the words began, tripping out of her mouth like they were eager to be free. "Oh, Nayru. Oh Goddesses! You're - you're the princess, aren't you? Is that really you? We thought you were dead! _He_ said that - that the Royal Family was gone, that there was no one - you're - are you really back? Are you really Princess Zelda?"

A little stunned at the sudden outpouring of words, Zelda blinked once. "I -" she started, her voice cracking a little. "Yes, I am Princess Zelda. Ganondorf is gone, thanks to the Hero of Time. Hyrule has been saved."

_Ganondorf is gone._

She had thought it, she had acknowledged the idea, but this - the physical act of saying the words, _Ganondorf is gone_ \- absurdly, Zelda could feel her eyes filling with tears, her breath catching in her throat, a laugh of pure delight and relief and disbelief and shock struggling to bubble up. _Ganondorf is gone._

She wanted to scream it from the rooftops, let every living being in Hyrule know.

_Ganondorf is gone!_

The girl gave her a tentative smile, giggling almost nervously. "I - wow." Brushing her bangs out of her eyes, she let out a little laugh. "I mean - I - wow. I dreamed about this - that someone would stop him - that maybe you were still alive - and..."

Before Zelda could stop her, she pinched her own arm hard, yelping a little. "...Are you aright?" Zelda asked cautiously as she ventured out of the grass, and the girl laughed properly, tossing fiery red hair back.

"I'm better than alright! I thought I was still dreaming," she explained breathlessly, "But it's real, isn't it? You really are Princess Zelda, and you're really telling me that that man is _gone_!" Then she spun around, cupping her hands around her mouth as her voice rose substantially. "Dad! _Dad_ , come round here, right now!"

Turning back to the utterly bemused Zelda, she grinned broadly. "This is fantastic! Does that mean that everything is going to go back to the way it was when I was little? We won't have to worry about raids or really high taxes or anything?"

Raids and high taxes? Zelda blinked again before the girl's words caught her - she hadn't said that everything was going to go back to normal. Raids and high taxes _had_ become normal. "I'll try my best," she murmured, turning as a new player approached - the man she recognised as Talon, owner of Lon Lon Ranch. Nodding to him, she offered him a tentative smile. "Mister Talon. It is good to see you."

He, too, was staring, and Zelda shifted self-consciously. "Well, I'll be," he finally rasped, blinking, rubbing at his eyes like he was staring at an illusion. "That really you, Your Highness?" And, much to Zelda's shock, he dropped to one knee, one hand on his chest, head bowed.

"You don't have to bow!" she said immediately, gesturing for him to rise. "But... yes, it's really me." A crooked smile crossed her face at a sudden memory. "The last time I saw you, I was nine years old and hiding in a tree, and you winked at me and left a bottle of milk under it. I never got to say thank you - it was delicious."

Finally rising, he let out a laugh. "You remember that? Shucks, anything to help out a sweet little kid! Wow, look at you now!" And then he stopped himself, a frown crossing his face as he actually did look at her. "Are you alright?" he asked her, voice more gentle now. "You look like you've been through the wars."

Zelda's legs almost collapsed beneath her at the immediate concern, her exhaustion and pain and hunger suddenly rushing upon her. Talon had spoken to her like he would speak to his own daughter. And so long had it been since someone had spoken to her as a father that she could almost feel herself close to tears again.

"Actually," she started, softly and cautiously, her voice kept steady by sheer iron will, "If it would not be too much trouble, I would very much appreciate a place to sleep tonight and something to eat."

Talon's eyes widened again, and he nodded frantically. "Any time, Your Highness!" he almost yelped, "I'll go fetch the wagon!"

And he hurried off, leaving her alone with the girl and Epona.

The other girl gave her a tentative smile, shifting his feet. "I know he can be kind of... overbearing," she admitted, "But he means well, I promise."

Zelda returned the smile. "I know. And I'll never forget his kindness - yours as well. Ah -" She paused here, almost self-conscious. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I know your name?"

"Oh, right!" The girl brightened up a little. "Sorry about that! My name's Malon - that's, uh, how the ranch got its name, heh. Ma _lon_ and Ta _lon_... it's kind of cheesy..."

"I think it's nice," Zelda murmured, and Malon flushed, running an awkward hand through her hair. For a long moment, there was silence.

An interruption came in the form of Talon and the rattle of wagon wheels, the horse-drawn cart drawing up. "It might not be too comfortable in the back," he told her, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way, "But there's a blanket there, if you want to set it down or wrap up. Malon, you gonna ride Epona back?"

"If she'll let me," Malon shot back, turning to face the horse, her gaze softening. "How about it, sweetie? Shall we go back home?"

Epona snorted gently, nudging Malon's hair and remaining still as the girl clambered up. "I'll take that as a yes," she confirmed, and Talon jumped down to help Zelda in to the wagon.

It smelt faintly of stale milk - perhaps, at one time, there had been a spill - but it was flat enough, and the blanket was clean with only a faint smell of horses. "Thank you," she told Talon, settling down in the least-smelly corner with a smile, her exhaustion rushing back to her, her legs trembling beneath her skirts. "Your kindness and hospitality is very much appreciated."

Her voice cracked, and Talon gave her a sympathetic smile. "You rest up," he told her, "I'll drive as gently as I can. Malon!" There was an answering reply, and he called back, "You ride on ahead, you can go faster. See if you can get a bed set up for Her Highness after you stable Epona!"

"You got it!" Malon confirmed, raising one hand. "I'll see you back at the ranch, Your Highness!"

And she rode off, leaving Zelda with Talon.

He chuckled to himself as he climbed back into the driver's seat, glancing over his shoulder. "You ready to go, Your Highness?" he called.

Zelda nodded once. "I am. And please, just -" No, just 'Zelda' was too informal, and she wavered. Her first instinct had been one that her protocol lessons had explicitly taught against. "Just 'Princess Zelda' is fine, you don't need to keep saying 'your highness'."

"Oh. Uh, right you are, Princess Zelda."

Letting out an affirming noise, Zelda settled back as the wagon jolted and started off on its journey back to the ranch. Getting as comfortable as she could, Zelda closed her eyes - but sleep, it seemed, was still elusive.

It had been... nice, having people call her by her name. While she still couldn't drop her title, at least it was somewhat less formal than 'Your Highness' this, 'Her Highness' back, something that had never sat comfortably with her. Her birthright and her bloodline as Hyrule's heir - as Hyrule's _only_ heir, she thought with a sudden jolt - had given her responsibilities, but it had also elevated her. Had she been any other injured girl, she was certain that Malon and Talon would have still offered their help - they seemed like good people - but how much of it was due to their compassion, and how much of it was due to her being Hyrule's heir and princess?

It was an uncomfortable division that she would have to face. As a child, she had not been expected to carry many royal duties - any public ceremony would be largely focused on her father, while she sat quietly at his side as to make a good impression of the Royal Family. Diplomacy with other lands and with the other races within Hyrule, affairs of the state, financial matters... they would be left to her father.

And she had not been taught what she needed to know. All of these things, diplomacy, finance, caring for Hyrule itself... they had been something to teach her as she grew older, with her father reigning as she learned. She had not expected to take the throne for a very long time.

Now, what choice did she have? She had technically become a queen the day her father had died, albeit a queen in exile. Now, though, it was the title that rightfully belonged to her - or, at least, it would after her coronation, where she would be officially crowned Queen of Hyrule.

A coronation. She would have to arrange her coronation - and a crown, and a gown, and the castle was long gone and what remained was an abomination, and Castle Town was in ruins, and she had no royal advisors, no one to tell her what to do...

Her breathing hitched. This was definitely not something that had been covered in her childhood etiquette lessons. Teaching her which forks and knives and spoons to use at a royal banquet, yes. Teaching her how to rule after seven years on the run, with the destruction of her home and the loss of everything she had held dear... that, it seemed, had not been on the curriculum.

Oh, how she wished Impa was there. Impa would know what to do - she knew the royal protocols like the back of her hand, would have been one of the main ones to support Zelda in her education as she grew. But she'd never have that opportunity now, would she? The seven years she had spent in hiding... either Impa or she and Sheik would be out scouting, or keeping watch while the other slept, or following up hints of rebellion against Ganondorf. They would search for food and shelter, seek out potential allies.

And they would make plans - plans on what to do when the Hero of Time awakened, what to do if he never opened his eyes again. They'd make plans for how to succeed, plans on what they'd do if they did not succeed...

But at no point had they made plans on what to do if they _did_ succeed.

With a soft sigh, Zelda wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and closed her eyes again. The journey to the ranch would still be some time, and she could use the rest and relaxation, even if she didn't actually sleep...

She was asleep within minutes.


	3. Early Days Yet

When Zelda next awoke, it was in a heavenly soft bed with sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains, the scent of baking bread wafting through the air. She stirred, murmuring a little and reaching up to rub at her eyes, finally opening them to take stock of her environment.

There, on the little table by her bedside, were her tiara and earrings, the golden ornamental armour she had been wearing. Over a chair laid her ragged dress, banner, and gloves, her shoes beneath them, and a memory from her arrival stirred - that of an exhausted Zelda being led to a room, offered a spare nightgown, having barely enough energy to undress and get changed before collapsing into the blankets.

But she was awake now, and alert enough to recognise that this was a well-loved room. A small framed portrait, of a much younger Malon and Talon, certainly seemed to suggest that this was more than just a guest room. Was this Malon's own, hastily tidied to allow her to take the other girl's bed?

She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for it.

Swinging her legs out of bed, she examined them critically, the first time she had seen her own legs since... well, since she was nine years old. Had they always been this thin, this pale and weak? Her brow creased. No - she had always had a layer of puppy fat as a child, and as that had been burnt out, she had certainly remained well-fed and healthy.

Now, though... now, she tore her gaze from her legs, turning her attention to her hands instead. They looked... inauthentic. Her fingernails were short, smooth, and clean, and her hands bore no callouses or marks - but they looked like they had been sculpted from something artificial, bearing none of the marks or wear that people accumulated over their lives.

Glancing over to her gloves where they lay slung over the back of the chair, it occurred to her that removing her gloves the night before would have exposed her hands, her _own_ hands, to air for the first time in seven years.

No wonder she felt inauthentic.

Reaching back, she tugged a strand of hair forward, examining the ends critically. When Sheik had died and she had been reborn, how would the magic have known how long her hair was to be? Certainly, it was longer than it had been when Sheik had first arrived, barely brushing her shoulders. Who had chosen the clothes she was to wear, who knew to put her mother's tiara on her head, discernible and identifiable only by touch until she had glanced over at the night stand that morning?

For that matter... what did she even look like?

Blonde hair, she knew that much - darkened from the gold of her childhood into something with just a hint of red, more like her mother's. Presumably, she still had blue eyes. Her hands and legs were pale, and so, presumably, was the rest of her. But what did her face look like? Did she still look like a little girl, or would people see her as a woman, and a queen? What did her body look like, under the loose nightgown?

Pushing back one sleeve, she examined her forearm, the pale, smooth skin there. Glancing down, she could see part of one shoulder - if this was Malon's nightgown, then the ranch girl must have been built differently, slightly broader in the shoulders and hips. Zelda smoothed the night gown down, trying to discern the shape of her body through it, frowning all the while - it was a bizarre feeling, not knowing what your own body looked like.

And then her head snapped up, hands falling away at the slight shuffling sound coming from the door. Swiftly, she pulled her legs back up on to the bed, twitching the blanket back in place - had someone found her?

"Princess Zelda?" came a cheerful voice instead, "Are you awake?"

Malon. It had just been Malon - in her own house, as she was clearly meant to be.

"I am," she called back, pulling the blankets up to her chest and giving the girl a faint smile as the door creaked open. "Is this your room?"

Already dressed and ready for the day, Malon shrugged a little, a smile still on her face. "It is - but you can borrow it! We let you sleep in a bit, you looked _exhausted_ , but it's getting really late, so..." She shrugged once.

It was? With a frown, Zelda pulled the curtains aside, briefly dazzled at the light that came pouring in. "What time is it?"

"Nearly ten minutes to eight!" she chirped, utterly missing Zelda's look of horror at Malon's definition of 'late' as she turned to the wardrobe in the corner of the room. "The bread is nearly done, and there's hot water if you want to wash up." Making a speculative sound, she spun around, holding out a simple long-sleeved dress. "How about this? I could also lend you a blouse and skirt, but I think my waist is a bit bigger than yours and it'd fall down..."

"Oh, uh -" Caught unawares, Zelda's gaze flickered between the dress and her own one, wincing at the stains and tears on the latter. "That - looks fine, thank you. And a wash would be very welcome."

And she would be able to see what her body actually looked like. That would certainly be an interesting bonus.

"Right!" Collecting a sash, a shawl, and something lumpy and woollen, she set them on top of the chest of drawers next to the wardrobe. "Here - I only really have one pair of boots, and I need them for working. But you can stay inside and rest up a bit, I guess, so you'll need some socks!"

Oh - they were socks. Zelda nodded, a little taken aback by Malon's energy. "Thank you. Erm - I should be able to repair my own for when I leave, I'm sure you'd like your room and your clothing back -"

Malon hesitated, then took a few steps closer, one hand resting against the back of the chair. "Princess Zelda, may I speak honestly with you?" she asked carefully.

Unhesitatingly, Zelda nodded.

Letting out a little sigh, Malon spun around, pacing a little. "I don't know what happened to you," she started, gaze more on the floor than on Zelda, "Or where you've been for seven years - and if you have somewhere you can go, then it would be our _honour_ to help you get there. But if you really don't have anywhere to stay..."

She drew in a deep breath, letting it out again slowly, her bangs fluttering a little in the artificial breeze.

"If you don't have anywhere else to stay, then you're welcome to stay here until you find something. I know it's not like... a castle or anything. But it's not too bad here."

Stay at the ranch? It was true, Zelda really didn't have any place in mind to stay in, save for trying to find a room at the inn in Kakariko Village. But staying here, taking up Malon's bed, wearing her clothes, eating their food... "Are you sure?" she asked dubiously, "I wouldn't want to impose - this is your bed, you shouldn't have to give it up -"

"You're our _princess_!" Malon immediately interjected, "You're almost our _queen_ , and will be once you're coronated!"

Crowned. It was crowned, but she certainly wasn't about to interrupt.

"Princess Zelda, you don't understand - we've spent seven years hoping you survived and that you'd come back and get rid of Ganondorf, and now you have, and that's - it's amazing," Malon continued in a rush. "I know you said the Hero of Time did it, and I don't know who that is but I _know_ you had something to do with it..."

"Link," Zelda said softly, and Malon stopped short. "The Hero of Time was Link. I did have my role to play in helping to seal Ganondorf away, but without Link, we would not have succeeded."

Malon bit down on her lip hard. " _Was_ the Hero of Time?" she asked carefully.

Staring hard at the blankets, Zelda nodded once. "I sent him back," she admitted, her voice barely audible even to her own ears. "He drew the Master Sword at my request, but he was far too young - and he lost seven years to sleep as he grew old enough to become the Hero he was destined to be. I sent him back to a time before he drew the sword, before Ganondorf ever took over, so he could live out his life as he was meant to live it." The ghost of a smile crossed her face. "I hope that in this new time, he gets to live in peace. And you, and I, and your father, and all of Hyrule."

There was ringing silence for a moment, and then Malon let out a low whistle. "Are you a witch?" she asked curiously, catching herself and shaking her head. "I-I mean, can you do magic?"

Smiling to let Malon know she hadn't been insulted, she shook her head. "I'm not formally trained in it, so I'm not a witch. But I can do magic," she confirmed. "It's - I suppose it runs in the family?"

It was true enough, even if she was leaving out some rather key information - namely, her status as the leader of the seven sages. That, at least, was remaining solely on a need-to-know basis. "Is there any in yours?" she asked Malon curiously, folding her legs cross-legged.

"Not very much." Malon let out a thoughtful sigh, sitting back a little. "My mother knew a bit of magic to do with music, and I think I got some of that - that's why I was singing to Epona , it helps calm her down, and I think it's more than just the notes... but that's not really impressive, huh?"

"I think it sounds nice." Zelda smiled back tentatively, then glanced down at herself. "I may wash up now, if that is alright."

"Oh, sure!" Malon jumped up again, all smiles again, plucking up the dress she had selected for Zelda. "Here - I'll show you the wash room."

It certainly wasn't the big, opulent one that she had had at the castle, but it was, at least, a step up from the streams and ponds that Sheik would often bathe in. With enough hot water to fill the tub (Malon had explained that she'd usually simply wash up in the basin, but felt Zelda would enjoy a proper bath), Zelda stripped off the nightgown, hanging it carefully before stepping in to the steaming water.

There - that was perfect. Zelda's eyes drifted shut in contentment for a moment before she got back to the task of getting clean.

By the time a handful of minutes had passed, Zelda was substantially cleaner and the water rather dirtier, and she stepped out of the bath almost self-consciously. It wasn't that she was embarrassed by nudity - but this was a body she had technically never seen naked, even if it did belong to her. Angling the small mirror carefully, she stepped back, the towel draped over her shoulders, and peered at her reflection as best she could.

Pulling a face, pressing one hand against her hip, she shook her head and began drying off.

Malon was waiting for her by the time she was done, stepping out of the wash room dried and dressed, her damp hair loose around her shoulders. "All done, Princess?" she said brightly, "Come on, I'll get you some breakfast!"

Zelda's stomach rumbled, and she let out a little laugh. "That would be greatly appreciated," she said with a smile, and let Malon lead her away.

 

The ranch, really, wasn't so bad. Indeed, it was almost pleasant - with Malon insisting that she was perfectly fine with sleeping on a bedroll and refusing to let Zelda take the bedroll instead, with good fresh farm food (and the wonderful milk she remembered from her childhood) in her stomach, Zelda let the first few days slip free without too much comment, largely keeping to herself, making her way through the ranch's small library and making a valiant attempt at repairing her dress.

It was two days where she did not have any cause to worry, where she could let go of fear and anxiety and simply be. There was no need to fear for her life, here. Malon was good company, when she wasn't out working, and she had found herself sharing the vast bulk of the story with her. And Talon seemed to see her like another daughter - it had been nice, something missing from the past seven years.

Still, her sleep the first night had been born of utter exhaustion. Without that, she found that her sleep was restless, cheerful enough during the day but kept awake at night with her worries.

Her own body felt foreign. She missed Impa and Sheik (and, yes, Link) terribly. She was isolating herself from the rest of the world. The weight of her responsibilities was one suspended by a frayed cord, and every hour brought those responsibilities closer and closer.

And so, on the third morning after her arrival, she turned to Malon and said, "I think it is time to go to Kakariko."

Ganondorf was gone, and people had to know that. Surely they should also know that their princess had returned? Hiding away in the ranch, Zelda felt like a fraud - like Hyrule would be better off if she hadn't returned, like she was abandoning the land that was rightfully her responsibility.

These two conflicting thoughts flickered in and out, leaving her restless and uneasy. She had to go to the village and face the town, perhaps explain that had happened in the last days of Ganondorf's dictatorship. And with that came the thought of judgement - how would they judge her, the actions that she had thought were the best to take at the time?

If they thought her a fool, then she would not blame them in the slightest. It was so easy to come up with a plan and then to instrument it without ever realising that, perhaps, it was the wrong one. It would be up to Hyrule to judge her for her actions.

And now was the time for them to do so.

To her announcement, Malon only nodded, giving her a smile. "Well, I think your shoes will be okay for just walking around town, huh? Just not..." She let out a little chuckle. "You know, ranches. When do you want to leave?"

Thoughtfully chewing on her piece of bread, she let out a wordless little noise and swallowed the bite. "I am not particularly fussed - any time you are free to take me over, I suppose. I -" She hesitated briefly. "I would ask to borrow a horse, but I don't, ah, know how to ride."

Not on her own, at least. Not without riding side saddle, her protector holding on to her like her life depended on it (which, as a matter of fact, it had).

"We can take the wagon," Talon grinned. "Don't worry! I can take over some new cheeses and sell 'em at their markets. How long are you gonna need there?"

"I'm sorry?" Zelda blinked.

Talon opened his mouth to speak, paused, then shook his head in bewilderment, holding up one hand. "Were you just going over for a few hours?" he said again, "Or all day?"

He had meant for her to come back. Suddenly caught out, Zelda stared at her plate. "I - was intending to relocate to the Inn at Kakariko, actually," she told the plate softly, "Or perhaps Impa's old house."

She had been there a few times, relaxing at Impa's house while her father made official visits to the town. And as far as she remembered, it was not inhabited. Perhaps that would make an ideal home until the castle could be rebuilt...

"If that's your choice," Talon eventually said, "Then we'll be happy to take you up there. Might bring those cheeses anyway."

Malon offered her a smile, but there was a faint tinge of sadness there. "Your Highness, it has been an honour to have you stay at our humble home -" she started, then jumped as Zelda reached out to rest her hand on Malon's, pale contrasting against freckled.

"Malon," she said gently, "And Talon, I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality - and I wouldn't be at all opposed to seeing you again." She smiled again, a little crookedly. "Maybe you can teach me to ride a horse, Malon."

Flushing deeply, Malon withdrew her hand when Zelda did, her other hand covering the one Zelda had touched lightly. "It would be -"

"Don't say it would be an honour again." She was almost grinning, enjoying this banter with a - was she a friend? If she wasn't already, she certainly could be. "I would love to learn from you. Maybe - once things are settled - I could come to the ranch for lessons?"

"I'll go get the cheeses ready," Talon murmured, slipping away from the girls.

Malon gazed at her for a moment, then smiled again, the bright and sunny one she generally showed. "That'd be great. My first royal student!"

Zelda chuckled, finishing off the last of her bread, then standing to carry her plate to the sink. "Once I get changed, shall we set off?" she called over her shoulder, getting an affirmative from Malon. "Alright. I need to pick up my responsibilities, and that means I need to be where the bigger populations are..." Turning back to her, she set a light hand on Malon's shoulder. "But I will not forget your kindness."

And, leaving a flustered ranch girl in the kitchen, Zelda turned and started back up the stairs, ready to transform herself back into the princess that she needed to be.


	4. The Red Skulltulas

Thank the Three for lockable doors, Zelda thought grumpily as she shut the door to Impa's house behind her.

The relocation to Kakariko Village had been... not quite as she had expected. Oh, there had been the expected response to her reappearance - shock, disbelief, some welcome delight from a few, and, all through it, endless, endless questions. She had answered them the best she could, save for mention of Sheik - to that end, she had said that she had ventured out from her hiding places rarely and in disguise. She had seen what was happening to her people, she had told them, and she had made plans for when the moment was right.

She also spoke nothing of Link's fate. To that, she simply said that he had left on another journey.

And she did not speak of precisely how Ganondorf had gained access to the Sacred Realm, merely saying that he had found his way inside and had been faster than Link was.

And she did not reveal that she had been the leader of the sages, the seventh sage, the one to help seal Ganondorf away - instead, she had reduced her part merely to helping Link escape the castle, to hold Ganondorf in place while Link delivered the final blow.

All in all, she really had not answered many questions at all.

But they had accepted it, at least for now, and had in turn answered her own questions.

The situation with the Gerudo was tense. The Gerudo had sealed off the valley as best they could, allowing only the carpenter team out before locking up tightly. They had been worried, these past few days - their king was gone, their second-in-command was gone, the witches they had looked to for spiritual guidance (Zelda also found herself not mentioning their role in imprisoning some of their own people in suits of armour and forcing them to do their bidding) were gone.

The Zoras, too, were being reclusive (although they, at least, were unlikely to be hostile - the Gerudo and the Hylians did have a history of sometimes violent clashes), and Zelda could understand entirely. Not only had their guardian, Lord Jabu Jabu, disappeared, but the question of succession still loomed large. Princess Ruto was the heir to the Zora throne, and now she had ascended as a sage - if the royal line was to continue, then the king would have to have another child. And who would want to replace their child? How would the king feel about having to find a new consort and have a replacement for his lost daughter; how would the child feel, knowing that they only existed as a replacement?

Yes, Zelda could understand completely why the Zora had retreated.

The situation with the Gorons, at least, was less tense. With their patriarch Darunia gone, and Darunia's son Link (and she hadn't been able to resist a mental smile, when Sheik had learned what the crying child's name was) still only a child, the line of succession had moved smoothly to Darunia's brother Dorok - who, by all accounts, was friendly with the Hylians and was known to the occasional villager who ventured up the mountains. She knew that eventually she would have to see him - but that, she hoped, would be able to wait until things with her own people had settled more.

And as for the Kokiri, they were as reclusive as ever. No one had volunteered any information on the reclusive forest inhabitants, and she did not ask any questions. It was better that way for them - better that they could avoid contact with outsiders who did not understand them.

But she still was going to make plans to visit at one point, if only to introduce herself to the Deku Sprout, the one she had seen appear through Sheik's eyes after Link had made his way through the Forest Temple. One of the guardians of Hyrule, it was her duty to do so, and to at least offer them help. If, after that, they requested that she left them be, she knew she would comply - it was the very least she could do for the children who had helped raise the Hero of Time.

And... she wanted to tell them what had happened. That Link had been a great hero, and that he would not be coming back. That Saria had become a sage, and would protect them from the Sacred Realm, but that they would not be seeing her again.

She had a feeling it was going to break her heart.

And as for her own people, as for the Hylians, clustered in overcrowded Kakariko Village, in little Hylia Village on the northern shore of the lake, in the little villages and settlements scattered across the field... as for her own people, she would be facing an uphill battle there.

It wasn't the citizens that would be the problem, or at least not a significant one - they had welcomed her with mostly open arms, and seemed to be regarding her with a combination of caution and friendliness. There were those that were outright hostile, who openly questioned her location during the Seven Year War and whether or not she was fit to rule, but they were a minority, and thus probably not worth focusing her energy on.

The far bigger problem was the nobility.

While not members of the Royal Family outright, although there certainly were cousins here and there, they had been the ones to hope to assume power when Ganondorf had fallen. Her several days at the ranch had not been wasted by them - already, they had their backers, hoping to capitalise on the disappearance or death of the last member of the Royal Family, stepping into the vacuum left by her family.

And then, very inconveniently, she had reappeared, forcing them to drop their attempts at power. But they would still be a potentially hostile force - people who had power, who had seen a way to gain more, and then who had lost it again.

She had the feeling they would not forgive her so easily, no matter how polite they would be to her face. Already, she had met with three, all from the Lake Hylia region - a married couple, Lord Elan and Lady Karon of Northern Hylia, and Lord Lant of Southern Hylia.

It was this latter encounter that had Zelda in such a bad mood, that drizzly autumn afternoon. She had met with Lord Elan and Lady Karon two days earlier, and they had made it very clear that they had their part of Lake Hylia under their control. She didn't need to think about it, they told her reassuringly, she could just leave them be. There was no need for Zelda to get involved in the affairs of Northern Hylia.

It was a very clear message - for her to go away, and to not even think about using Northern Hylia for her own use. Unfortunately, though, Northern Hylia was an important place - the trade roads from the lake to the rest of Hyrule ran through them almost exclusively, halted by Gerudo Valley to their west and by sheer cliffs to the east and north of the lake. Without ensuring free passage through Northern Hylia, then there would be no way to get fish from there.

That afternoon, she had met with Lord Lant, a minor noble who held lands on the southern shore of the lake, consisting of a handful of fishing villages. And if Lord Elan and Lady Karon's outright hostility had put her on edge, then Lord Lant's indecision and - she hesitated to say it - cowardice boiled her blood. He had refused to make any firm pledge of allegiance to stand at her side, unwilling to risk angering Lord Elan and Lady Karon. And yes, admittedly, she could understand why - Lord Lant's lands were the furthest in Hyrule, and if Lord Elan and Lady Karon had decided to ban passage through their territory, then the Southern Hylia region would be completely cut off from the outside world.

Still, it rankled. She had got to know the chosen one of the Goddess of Courage, Farore herself, had seen what courage could do. And the complete opposite, it seemed, was something far less welcome.

Slipping off her new boots, draping the cloak (thick and woollen and a deep blue with a gold clasp, this was not intended for stealth but rather for warmth against the approaching winter) over the rack near the door, Zelda padded across to the stairs, ascended, and then collapsed on the bed, letting out a scream of frustration into the pillow, resisting the urge to pound on it with her fists, to kick at the bed.

No, that would be childish, throwing a tantrum just because people didn't like her.

But was that really it? With a groan, she rolled over, staring at the ceiling. It wasn't a simple popularity contest. She was the Princess of Hyrule, and soon to be Queen - already, there were plans underfoot for her coronation - and these people were the lords that directly oversaw the people of Hyrule. If they didn't like her, then that had no real bearing to Zelda herself as a person - but it could have a very real impact on the people that lived on their lands.

What if they took it out on her people, just because they didn't like her?

"If anyone would like to tell me how to be popular with stuck-up nobles, that would be nice," she called out to no one in particular, receiving exactly no answers. She sighed - as to be expected, but still frustrating.

She couldn't stay here. After the meeting with Lord Lant, she had returned to Impa's house - well, no, her own house now, the librarian of the town had found documentation saying that the house was to revert to the ownership of the Royal Family in the case of the owner's death or permanent incapacitation, and apparently 'ascending to become a sage' counted as permanent incapacitation - to get the frustration out of her system. Now, though, she wanted to leave, to walk around in the cool air on her own, to watch the falling leaves, to breathe freely.

Perhaps she would visit her family.

Boots and cloak restored, slipping the knife that she had found in one of Impa's stores inside one boot, she stepped out again, locking the door behind her. And then she started down the stairs and up the hill again, passing houses and shops until the windmill and the well was before her.

And then she passed that too, leaving the town proper for what sat on the outskirts, higher in the foothills of the mountain, far enough away to not quite bother the town but without being inaccessible.

Kakariko Graveyard was a melancholy sight, and Zelda's head stayed bowed as she followed the paths to the highest part of the burial grounds. Watched over by the Shadow Temple and the ghosts of more Sheikah than she cared to think about, a newly re-erected stone in place, was the tomb of the Royal Family.

Her mother was down there, awarded a place by virtue of her royal marriage. Her father's parents, too, had their place there. In time, she would be there too, along with her husband and her children and her grandchildren.

But her father was not there. She had not found out what Ganondorf had done to his body after his murder, after she had fled for her life, and she did not want to know. Still, if his body was to be laid to rest anywhere, it would be here. If his spirit had been able to move on, it would be with the rest of their family.

Oh, she wished she could have said goodbye. She wished that their last meeting hadn't been a casual reminder from him after breakfast to practise her poetry readings, and she wished that her last words to him hadn't been an absent assurance as she yawned into her tea.

With Impa's help, she had said prayers for him after they had fled, prayers that he could move on and find peace, still in her own body before Sheik had come to her. She had said her goodbyes then, and felt no real reason to say them again, here in front of a crypt where his body and spirit was not.

But she had never had the chance to say that she loved him, or that she forgave him for not believing her, or that she had cherished the few moments they had been able to spend together throughout her hectic childhood.

"Sorry," she whispered as she bowed her head, turning to make her way back to the village.

And then she let out a shriek of surprise, recoiling harshly as she came face to chest with a very tall man, clad from head to toe in a dark red cloak, a black pattern tattooed on one pale cheek from within the shadows of the hood.

He barely blinked. "Princess Zelda," he said conversationally. "I apologise if I have interrupted your time at your family's grave."

Bringing Sheik to mind, she straightened her back and steeled her expression to neutral. "I was just leaving." And she took a step to one side, intending to head down to the inn for something for dinner.

He took a step with her, moving forward closer than was strictly necessary, and Zelda took another step back. This time, he did not move. "Is there something you want?" she asked frostily, keeping every ounce of fear off her face and out of her voice.

Was this someone who meant to harm her? Her pulse was thudding so loudly she was sure she could hear it.

"A moment of your time," he said smoothly, and she stilled. "You see, I represent a group of... I suppose you could say we are businessmen and investors in the economy."

 _The criminal underworld,_ Sheik's voice provided in an instant. She swallowed, hoping that the gesture had gone unseen. "And?" she prompted, allowing herself a moment of pride on how steady she was keeping her voice.

"And," he continued, "We are in the process of making sure that Hyrule is a safe, secure, and prosperous country. I'm sure you'd like to see that, wouldn't you?" He grinned, and Zelda got a distinct impression of being brandished a knife. "You see, to do that, we require co-operation. I'm sure a clever little child like you could see that it's _so_ important to have good ties with your contacts, can't you?"

"I'm sure," Zelda said smoothly, wincing fractionally when her voice wavered just a bit. "That is why I am working with the nobility to ensure that all parts of Hyrule are represented -"

"Ahh, but what of the business world?" he continued, moving just a little closer and causing Zelda to shrink back, hating her fearful reactions all the while. "You see, we don't really fall under those jurisdictions - our interests stretch throughout the entirety of Hyrule. No, I think we are going to have to... deal with you directly."

 _He's threatening you!_ came Sheik's and Impa's voice almost simultaneously.

 _Well, obviously!_ she shot back, forcing herself to exhale steadily and trying not to think about the fact that she had just argued back at herself. "And what are you proposing?" she asked, dearly wishing for Impa to show up behind her and send him on his way.

(The Shadow Temple _was_ right there. It wasn't as implausible as people would have assumed.)

He smiled again, doing absolutely nothing to alleviate Zelda's fear, and it suddenly occurred to her that he could do anything he wanted and she would be helpless. Her combat skills were... sub par, at best. The knife in her boot seemed very far from her hand. She had not brought the ocarina, would not be able to warp away - and if she did, where would she even go? Her mouth was dry, her heart thudding almost painfully in her chest, her hands trembling ever so slightly. He saw all this, and still he smiled.

How could she have been so foolish, to go somewhere utterly isolated on her own?

"Oh, I still need to work out my terms," he told her, as lightly as if he was simply working out a business deal. To him, she supposed, he was. "But don't worry, little princess - I'll work out some ideas that you can put to good use. After all, it would be in the best interests of everyone if you listened to these ideas like a good little girl."

With one white-gloved hand, he withdrew a card from within his cloak, holding it up in front of her. "I will keep in touch," he told her, forcing the card into her hand, then turning and striding away.

Zelda stared after him until he had faded from sight, stock still, still trembling faintly. But she was alone in the autumn evening now, and glanced down at the card in her hand - then started violently at the ultra realistic image of a blood-red skulltula on a field of white.

No other markings decorated the card, the back a simple white without ornamentation. A card bearing a single image of a red skulltula...

Shivering, she tucked the card away and hurried down the path back to the village proper, every sense on high alert.

She had the distinct feeling that this was not the last she would be seeing of that man.


	5. A Pack of Rabid Wolfos

By the time had week had passed with no further sign of the man with the red skulltula card, Zelda was starting to - very slightly - relax. She had since found herself a bodyguard, asking around the few people in the village she was beginning to trust, and upon hearing the young woman's name of Hilla (a particularly auspicious one, give its similarity to Hylia and Hyrule), she had appointed her fairly quickly.

A tall and wiry girl with her dark hair tied up high, Hilla was a good bodyguard, remaining in close proximity when Zelda was out and about in the village, but stepping back and giving her her privacy when she returned to Impa's former house. And if anything, Impa's house was certainly the safest in the entirety of the village - if the multiple wards that her protector had laid upon it when she had still been around wasn't enough, the thick, solid door, sturdy lock, and patched and reinforced back wall certainly would be.

And if anyone did actually manage to, first, get into either the well or the Shadow Temple in the first place (protected as they were with a wall of solid stone and the necessity for special equipment, respectively), second, find the hidden passages that connected the two with Impa's house, and third, actually make their way through areas strewn with the worst and most disturbing monsters in Hyrule, honestly, she wouldn't have stood much chance anywhere else.

(Still. She did wish that Impa hadn't actually told her about the Dead Hand.)

Equipping Hilla with a summon stick (a thin length of wood, perforated in the middle, which would resonate with its twin when broken; Zelda had the other part itself), she could go home each night knowing she was safe, and knowing that her body guard would be there in the event of anything actually managing to get through. Hilla would appear each morning and watch over her during the day, and so far, no creepy pallid men in red cloaks had even approached her once.

The next task was to work out a plan on what to do next, and then work out how to implement it. She needed staff - people who could turn her ideas into reality. It was all well and good to make an announcement and then not have anyone to actually do it. She had to ensure that Hyrule was safe - and the beginnings of a plan were beginning to form.

To anyone who would take a glance at Hyrule, they would see a land with their capital in ruins, lacking a castle, their Royal Family absent. Hyrule, she knew, was in a weak position with their neighbours, and to protect it, she needed visibility.

And so she began to devise a plan to rebuild Castle Town, and, standing over it, the castle. It would be a symbol of Hyrule, a way to show that Hyrule was not going to let the past seven years stop them - they would stand strong.

What would she need for it? Builders, certainly - it would be a good way to give people work. She'd need an architect to design it - while she certainly knew what a castle was meant to look like, designing one was quite another questions. Eventually, she'd need artisans and furniture makers to furnish it, advisors, maids, cooks, and other staff to reside in it, gardeners to plant and maintain the gardens... there had to be some around. Not everyone who had lived there prior to Ganondorf's takeover had lost their lives that day; having their old jobs back would probably be a good thing.

It couldn't be that difficult, could it? She would just have to let them know her plans, and find an architect, then find builders... they could focus on the rest of the town, too... Castle Town would be strong once again.

And to this end, she had found herself standing on a bench in Kakariko Inn, watching the approaching crowds with some trepidation.

(That was another thing she would have liked - speech writers. Maybe speakers.)

"I know that the past seven years have been painful ones," she started cautiously, trying not to look at anyone in particular, gaze fixed above the heads of the people assembled there, "But now is the time to rebuild our great land. To this end, I'd like to..."

She paused, wincing a little. She'd 'like to'? Could she have sounded any weaker?

"To this end, I am announcing that the rebuild of Castle Town, and of Hyrule Castle. This will do two things - it will serve as a strong symbol that we are a strong people -" She had repeated her words there, that was hardly articulate - "And that we cannot be held back by the past seven years. Additionally, it will provide work for many people here, who may have lost their livelihoods over the past years. I will be searching for an architect who is able to come up with a strong vision for Hyrule, and then for someone to lead the construction teams for both the castle and the town -"

"And who's going to pay for all this?" a voice called from the crowd, suspicious and biting, and her blood ran cold.

Didn't she have a royal treasury? ... _Did_ she have a royal treasury? Did anything remain of it; had anything remained of Ganondorf's treasures? How _was_ she going to pay for this? "I -"

"What about Kakariko? Don't we deserve to have the town fixed first?"

"How are we supposed to build a castle if we can't afford to eat? It's nearly winter and most of our provisions went down with that castle!"

"Did you think about this at _all_?"

Fighting to keep her hands from shaking, Zelda glanced across at the crowd, meeting Hilla's eyes. Hilla jerked her head slightly, indicating for Zelda to leave her makeshift stage - even her bodyguard didn't want her to keep talking.

"I will consult with my advisors on the correct path to take," she said in a rush, stepping down. Hilla was by her side almost immediately, guiding her into one of the little rooms off the main dining hall of the inn.

Settling slowly down on one of the seats, Zelda buried her face in her palms. "I suppose that could have gone better," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"It really could have," Hilla murmured, taking a seat herself. "Um, Princess, maybe you should have started out by asking what they wanted -"

There was a knock at the door, loud and insistent. Hilla immediately shot upright, opening it a crack and peering through.

Lifting her head, Zelda watched warily as Hilla spoke quietly to the person on the other side. Then, with a sigh, she closed the door again, turning back to the princess. "Lady Difa of the Central Plains," she murmured, "She had business in the village tonight and heard about - well - this. She'd like to speak with you."

Lady Difa? She had spoken to the woman only briefly, and had recalled her as... well, unwilling to make any strong statements either way. To Hilla, she nodded once, and the door opened, allowing the noblewoman in.

The woman wasted no time and making herself comfortable, staring at Zelda like she had found something amusing. Shaking her head, she murmured, "Oh, Princess, whatever will we do now?"

"Lady Difa," Zelda returned politely, "I did not realise you were in town tonight."

"Just passing through, just passing through," she explained, waving a hand bedecked in so many rings it looked distinctly off-kilter. "But, my dear, I heard about this little gathering - really, you should have consulted with us first!"

She could not find the words to respond to that, and settled instead for wincing and nodding once.

Difa gave her a wooden smile. "Now, honestly, you did make a bit of a blunder of things!" she continued, "But really, we could have helped you - working out the issue of budget, if nothing else. You know that we have resources!"

"I - suppose so -" Zelda continued, her voice strained. "What was I supposed to do?"

Sighing, Lady Difa drummed her fingernails against the table for a moment, considering. "A meeting would be best," she started slowly, "A chance for the nobility to convene and work out tactics. We know you're only young, dear - we can help support you and advise you." Smiling kindly at Zelda, she leaned forward a fraction, clearly waiting for an answer.

Advisors? Hadn't this been what she wanted? And no matter what her feelings were towards some of the nobles she had met, they _had_ been nobility for far longer than she had. They had the resources, Lady Difa was correct in that regard.

Should she have consulted them first? Or should she have consulted the residents of Kakariko Village?

"When would we be able to meet?" she asked quietly.

"How about - say - the day after next?" Difa suggested, "You could send messenger birds out this afternoon, and they can ride out tomorrow in this very room. You don't have to do this all on your own, princess."

She didn't, did she? Zelda found a smile of genuine relief cross her face, feeling herself relax just a little. "I suppose not. I greatly appreciate your support, Lady Difa."

The woman smiled faintly, or, at least, her lips curled up at the corners. "Don't mention it."

 

Apparently, 'you don't have to do this all on your own' had meant 'go sit in the corner like a good little girl while the grown-ups talk'.

Surrounded by some of her least favourite people in the world, cut out of the conversation as the nobles had conversed on how to fix, as they had named it, 'the Princess's little misstep', Zelda seethed quietly, wishing that they had at least let Hilla in (who had been excluded on the basis that she was not nobility, and that these kinds of meetings were not meant for the ears of what they had referred to as commoners).

"But really, a strong merchant sector would produce a great deal of high quality goods for trade," Lady Tebor, whose forested lands sat close to the borders of Hyrule just north of the parts where the Kokiri lived. "I have a great deal of people interested in opening trade routes through my land - we can also provide wood for the rebuild."

Cutting down part of the forest? Zelda wavered.

"It would, it would," murmured Lord Monera of the Southeastern Plains, his lands somewhere between the forest and the lake. "I know some of our neighbours would be interested in doing business somewhere more, ah, cosmopolitan - I'm afraid they see Kakariko as a bit..." His nose creased. "Common, I suppose? Even as a temporary capital, it still smacks a bit of a refugee camp."

Waving a hand in disgust at Lord Monera's words, Lady Cheri bit back, "At least it's better than the slums you have around your manor." Her lands, technically representing the Northern Rivers (covering the parts of the river directly south of the territory belonging to the Zoras) neighboured Kakariko itself, and Zelda knew she was very much fond of the town.

"As reluctant as I am to agree with Lord Monera," interjected Lady Karon, "I do agree that the lack of a capital city is harmful to our reputation with our neighbours. They see us as weak and provincial - if we do not make a strong statement that we are a modern and progressive land, and that we are open for business, they may choose to take their trade elsewhere. And honestly, given that all of the wealth that that dictator had was destroyed when his castle collapsed -" Her gaze flicked over to Zelda, just for a moment - "We are not exactly in good financial state. We need to have open trade!"

"Couldn't we have open trade in Kakariko?" Zelda spoke up quietly, hands in her lap, feeling very much like a little girl who had interrupted her father's meetings.

The look Lady Karon shot her certainly did not do much to relieve her of that view. "Sacred _Realm_ , no. What would investors think, if they came to Hyrule to trade and found a cobbled-together little village whose only point of pride was a windmill? No, either we should commit to rebuilding Castle Town - no, make that a _city_ \- or we should consider moving the centre of commerce to Lake Hylia. There, at least, we can show off our busy fishing industry and our unique lakeside culture. I think it would go down a treat, myself."

"Agreed," Lord Elan immediately added, giving his wife a self-assured smile.

 _Of course he agrees,_ Impa's voice muttered in Zelda's head. _They love power._

"What if we put it to the people, and see what they want?" Zelda suggested quietly. This time, they did not even bother scoffing at her remark, instead electing to ignore her completely.

Lady Karon was already discussing the market stalls she wanted to have open by the lakeside towns, talking with relish about the the many visitors from many different kingdoms that would come to pay homage to the great lands of Northern Hylia. From across the table, Lady Cheri was giving her a look of great dislike, and nearby, Lord Lant was tentatively offering a market on the southern shore of the lake as well. Lord Monera had seemingly tuned out, and Lady Difa, who had arranged this in the first place, was actually studying her nails with an air of practised boredom.

Zelda took a deep breath, then brought down both hands against the top of the table, hard. Immediately, every pair of eyes was on her, looks ranging from curiosity to stunned surprise to pity on their faces.

"My dear," Lady Difa started carefully, "Is everything quite alright?"

"No," she said forcefully, let out her breath. "No, I am not alright - I have been ignored all morning, and this meeting is supposedly for discussing the fate of _my_ kingdom. You have been disregarding any suggestion I make and just squabbling amongst yourselves, and what's best for Hyrule might not be best for your own vanity projects, and...!" Sucking in a breath, suddenly aware that she had been almost shouting, she forced herself to be calm. "Lady Karon, we can have markets set up in the lake districts, but they're much further out of the way. And the people of Kakariko have said that they want to be considered - I think we should consult with the people and ask them what they want to see done."

Lady Tebor let out a thoughtful noise. "It might not be a bad idea," she admitted. "It would certainly be an opportunity to see if we're on the right track."

"They're unlikely to come up with anything conclusive, however," Lord Monera pointed out. "They will all focus on their own situation - the builders probably will support the reconstruction of Castle Town and the castle, even if we don't quite have enough for their usual rates. The merchants just want strong markets, no matter where they are. The people who once lived in Castle Town will want it to be restored, and those from Kakariko would want to see it prioritised. The public is probably best compared to wolfos - you need to have a firm hand with them and not take your eyes off them once."

Deflating a little, Zelda nodded, sitting back in her chair, attention slipping away as the debates continued. Markets this, expansion that...

Somehow, though, she had to make up her own mind.

 

Making up her own mind came in the form of a public meeting, shortly after the more private one with the nobles concluded. Gathered in the inn, instead of standing on a bench, she now sat amongst the people, listening to their concerns one by one.

They were afraid, and she could understand that entirely - she had spent a very long time being afraid, herself. They were hungry - Ganondorf, it seemed, had confiscated crops on a regular basis, and the stores were not quite empty but were more scarce than they would have liked with winter approaching. They wanted answers and they wanted solutions, not grand speeches.

And they wanted to heal first before restoring Castle Town. It was a project for the future, certainly - but their first priority, for the most part, was to survive the oncoming winter with a minimum of uncomfortable things like starvation.

This time, there would be no terribly awkward speeches. Zelda simply listened to the people, to hear what they had to say, not the distorted views that the ruling classes of the nobility had. (And yes, she could recognise that she was a part of that class - but she was still rather new to it, and she had no qualms with choosing to pay attention to the people first and her own needs second.) Instead, there would just be their words and their needs, and she would have to find a way to ensure that they would survive.

"If this is what you want," she eventually said, "Then I retract my earlier statement saying that I wanted to focus on Castle Town and the castle. Instead, with the funding we do have, I will ensure that we have food to last us the winter, and to make sure that everyone in Hyrule is safe and secure before we start any big projects like the town and castle reconstruction."

This, at least, seemed to go over a little better, and Zelda said a quiet prayer of thanks to Nayru as the crowd dissipated once more. "Good play," Hilla murmured as she prepared to walk Zelda back to Impa's house, and Zelda left with a smile on her face.


	6. The Grand Tour

"Princess, you may want to prepare yourself for this."

Those were definitely not the words that Zelda wanted to hear first thing in the morning. She had only just finished bathing and dressing for the day, and had been sitting down with breakfast when Hilla had arrived, her face grim.

Zelda set down her tea cup and tried to resist groaning. "What is it now?"

"The nobles," was all she said, and all she really needed to say. Zelda winced, and Hilla continued, jerking her head back towards the door. "Uh, more specifically, Lord Elan and Lady Karon. They've set up this little stage at the top of the stairs going up to the well, and they're making a speech about..." She paused here, looking discomforted.

"About what?" Zelda prompted. Hilla hesitated for a moment more.

And then she said, in a mutter, "About how you said you weren't going to focus on the castle. They said that you're indecisive, that you're too inexperienced to be able to make big decisions, that you're a weak leader..." She paused, checking things off on her fingers. "That you're short-sighted, and that you're selfish for only focusing on Kakariko and the Hylians who live there and not the other people in Hyrule and, well, the good of Hyrule as a whole, and that you're not thinking of the 'bigger picture'." The last part, in air quotes, was accompanied by a rather disgruntled look.

Zelda stared down at her tea, not answering immediately.

They... had a point, didn't they? She had absolutely no experience. She had gone by her intuition when she had announced the rebuilding of the castle and of Castle Town, and her intuition had failed her fairly spectacularly. She had changed her mind - and yes, that would have been seen as indecisiveness, even if she was trying to reflect the wishes of the people.

And as for the accusation that she was selfish, that she had only focused on the Hylians and especially those in Kakariko...

That was true, wasn't it? She hadn't seen much else of the kingdom in recent days, and she had not seen the Gorons, the Zora, the Kokiri, or - and here would be one of the trickier parts - the Gerudo at all since her return.

"What should I do?" she asked softly, gaze still focused on her cup of tea as if she could drown herself in its depths.

Hilla hesitated. "May I sit down?" she murmured, and Zelda nodded her assent. She did so, folding her hands on the top of the table and staring at them for a moment. "Okay. Right now, you and those nobles are clashing a lot, right? And you need to be seen to address their concerns. Maybe if you leave Kakariko for a little while, they'll go back to their own places and leave you alone. You can go visit the other races and go be all diplomatic there, and when you get back, this whole thing would have blown over." She shrugged once. "If nothing else, it'll show that you're willing to listen to people, right? From all of Hyrule, not just Kakariko."

"A tour," Zelda murmured, sitting back as she pursed her lips. "That's... not a bad idea, really." It would be good to get out of Kakariko, if nothing else - and Dorok, the new patriarch of the Gorons, had been wanting her to visit. "We would have to tread carefully with some, though. I could start out to see the Gorons today, but I think it'll take a bit of organisation before we see the Gerudo..."

Hilla gave her an encouraging smile. "You could send birds out today, telling all the leaders what you plan to do. Will you go to, ah -" Something was warring on her face, indecision and a touch of fear. "Will you go to the - well - the forest?"

"To see the Kokiri?" Zelda lifted her gaze to meet Hilla's head-on. "I will. I need to introduce myself to the Deku Sprout and see what the Kokiri want me to do - if they want me to be involved, or if they want to be left alone. If they want to be left alone, I'd rule that their part of the forest is restricted to everyone else - they are a bit more vulnerable than some of the other races."

Nodding, Hilla let out a sigh. "Alright. It's just that I've heard - well - stories. About people that go there, and never come back... the forest doesn't like Hylians."

"Mm - I've heard them too. But..." She smiled in a slightly embarrassed way. "The Hero of Time was raised amongst them, and he was a Hylian. If we don't mean any harm to the forest, it would probably give us passage. Ah, but we should avoid a part called the Lost Woods. If we go there without a guide, we'll never come out again."

It had been Saria who had guided she and Sheik through the Lost Woods, she remembered. Saria, a little green-haired girl who had showed them the hidden paths to her sacred meadow, and who had shown no fear as she had ventured inside the monster-strewn Forest Temple.

Sheik had watched out for her for a long time, and she had simply hummed the Minuet of Forest in hope that the sages would survive.

"Sounds like fun," Hilla said dryly. "Okay. What will you tell them?"

"I'll think of something," Zelda said firmly, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "I'll prepare my belongings - if you could go to the market and pick up some food and be back here in an hour, I would appreciate it."

Getting out of Kakariko for a while was sounding more and more welcome by the minute.

 

An hour into the climb up the mountain, sweating under her thick woollen clothing and shivering every time a gust of frigid air hit her, and Zelda was starting to reconsider the tour.

Hilla, much to her irritation, looked utterly unbothered as she strode onwards, her pace deliberately slower than usual so as not to leave her charge behind. She had glanced back, turned back uncertainly, then looked back again, her lip caught between her teeth and her brow furrowed. "Princess," she called out, her words careful and cautious, "Would you like to stop to rest for a moment?"

"I'm fine," Zelda bit out, ignoring the fact that her calves felt like they were on fire. Another step, and as if sensing her rebellious thoughts, her leg nearly buckled beneath her, prompting her to grab hold of a nearby rock to steady herself. "Ah - perhaps we could sit down for a few minutes. But no more than that!"

Merely raising her eyebrows, Hilla nodded, gesturing to a rocky outcropping just a little bit further. "Can you manage that far? It would be a good place to stop."

Zelda did not answer verbally, instead forcing her legs onwards to the outcropping, practically collapsing on to it as soon as she was close enough. With a wince, she drew one leg up, digging her thumbs into her calf in an impromptu massage.

Settling down with a little more grace than the princess, Hilla glanced over curiously. "When you were in hiding," she started curiously, "I'm guessing you didn't do a lot of walking? You look kind of -" She hesitated, glancing away, fidgeting with a pendant she usually wore under her clothing. "Er, permission to speak freely?"

"You have permission," Zelda sighed, abandoning the calf she was half-heartedly attempting to massage back to life and starting on the other.

"Well, ah -" Biting her lip, Hilla seemingly steeled herself, turning to face her. "You're extremely out of shape, and you get tired very easily. That's all well and good for some, and it'll be fine once you have... well, a castle, and people will go visit you instead, but you're going to have to work really hard. And that's not going to happen if you can't walk for an hour, right?" She smiled a little uneasily, unsure whether or not she had overstepped her grounds. "And it could cause some pretty big problems with the Gerudo."

Now, that part caught her attention. Zelda turned to face her, intrigued and more than a little concerned. "What do you mean, problems with the Gerudo?"

"They value fighting," Hilla immediately said, "Often, the way to win the respect of someone is to defeat them in a fight - they've even welcomed outsiders this way, and they've become an honourary citizen. If you want to win them over, you may have to beat them in combat, know how to ride a horse, be able to navigate a desert - all that sort of things."

Zelda let out a thoughtful sound, gazing at a rock ahead of her. "I think I know where I can go to learn to ride a horse," she said slowly, "I've actually already got an offer." And it would be wonderful to see Malon again, she could not deny it. Malon had become a good friend in just a few days - she had been allowed to be herself, if only for a little while before taking up the mantle of the princess and the ruler of Hyrule again. "Will you teach me to fight?"

Nodding, Hilla actually grinned. "Sure. I've fought with Gerudo before. I know their style."

Learning to fight from her bodyguard and learning to ride from one of the best ranchers in Hyrule. Zelda could practically feel the relief. Now all she had to do was be a good student - and to become fit enough to manage to hold her own for longer than ten seconds. "Thank you, Hilla."

The taller girl offered her a smile, slipping off the rock and holding a hand out to Zelda. "Any time. Do you feel like continuing on?"

"I think so," she murmured, taking the offered hand, ready to take on the Gorons.

 

It had gone better than she had expected.

Darunia, it seemed, had spoken glowingly of Link's deeds in Dodongo Cavern, and Dorok, Darunia's brother, had enthusiastically recounted these tales to Zelda as they sat in Goron City, watching as the population went about their day. (Zelda, for her part, had felt a distinct pang of guilt for her role in sending Link to face such a dangerous task.)

But, more gratifyingly for her, it seemed that he had detected something about his imminent awakening as a sage, and more pointedly, he had seemingly known what Zelda's role to come would be. (Thankfully, Dorok had not actually realised that Zelda herself had become a sage, albeit one more tied to the mortal realm.) As such, he had left his son, the younger Link, with the instruction that the Hyrulean Royal Family were to be treated as friends and allies once she had returned, and that message had passed on to the Goron population at large.

It had been entertaining, meeting the Goron child named after the Hero of Time. Certainly, he behaved like a six-year-old boy, albeit one made out of rock, hiding behind his uncle and staring wide-eyed at the strangers. She had managed to win him over almost accidentally, in the end, saying that he was as brave as his namesake to come and meet her - within a few minutes, he was giggling and telling her all about the secrets of Goron City, while Dorok had smiled bemusedly over his head.

If only all of their meetings had gone so smoothly.

From Goron City, they had progressed onwards to Zora's Domain, taking the older paths behind Kakariko that made straight for Zora's Domain. This would cut days off a potential journey - with no need to climb back down the mountain, head down to the field, journey over the plains, and then make their way back up the river, they could instead cut straight through the foothills, edging closer to their border but still well within Hyrule's territories.

Zora's Domain itself, however, gave them a somewhat frostier reception than the Gorons had. It had only been recently that they had thawed out from the curse Morpha had laid upon them, and Zelda found herself glancing at the spot where she and Sheik had dragged Princess Ruto out of the ice.

But Ruto had been one of the only ones who had realised what was going on, and now she was gone - awakened as a sage and never to see her people again. For the majority of the Zora, they had simply been frozen one day, and then had awakened to find their oppressor gone and a new princess in Kakariko, with no knowledge of what had happened in the intervening time - save for their King, who Link had apparently managed to thaw out after she and Sheik had left from the Ice Caverns. And even he only knew a few things - that Link had evidently succeeded in stopping the curse (having watched his domain slowly thaw out from the moment Morpha had died), and that Ganondorf, at some point and in some way, was now gone too.

To the Zora, who were still recovering from the dual shocks of being frozen and losing their princess and heir, and especially to their king, it was possibly an ill-timed visit.

He wouldn't hold it against her, the king eventually told her, his voice thick with grief, and he bore her no ill will. But he could not bring himself to discuss diplomacy with her, not with the loss of his daughter still so recent.

The Gorons had been lucky in that there was a clear line of succession from Darunia to his brother. For the Zora, they had lost their heir, and there had been mounting pressure on the king to find a new consort and have another heir.

Zelda had departed sadly, and with a promise to help them with whatever they needed in the future.

From the Domain, they had departed down the river, leaving Zelda grateful to be finally going downhill. The mouth of the upper part of the river was not far from the forest, but Zelda was still grateful for the familiar faces that she had arranged to meet them there - Malon, standing aloft the wagon, Talon grinning in the driver's seat. With the aid of a horse and wagon, they would make it to the forest with time to spare to venture into the forest before night time, finding lodgings (she hoped) with the Kokiri.

She had said goodbye to Malon at the edge of the forest, the ranch girl promising to return by the middle of the next day, and had left with a vague sense of regret that they hadn't been able to spend more time together.

"Wait," Zelda murmured, shortly before they reached the forest where the Kokiri resided, and Hilla stopped obligingly.

"Are you tired?" she asked, her tone already patient.

And Zelda simply shook her head, her gaze distant.

They had stopped at the edge of the valley, a steep path down the cliffs ahead, the entirety of the forest visible from this point. Across from them, on the lower rim, was a riot of red and orange and gold; the valley itself was more of the same but with clearings and pockets visible every so often. Against these bright and brilliant colours, a clear blue stream wound its way through the trees, edging ever closer to a tree so enormous it dwarfed most of the valley.

"The Kokiri," Zelda murmured, and began the climb down.

But if the forest children were around, they were not showing themselves. Crunching through ankle-deep leaves, Zelda had approached the Deku Sprout, her gaze flickering to the fairies and sprites that floated in the air.

"Hyrule Princess," the Sprout had murmured as she had ventured nearer, already a good metre taller than it had been when it had been born, "I thank you for coming. You will find shelter in the forest valley tonight. Please do not come again. The forest is for my children only, and intruders will not be viewed kindly in the days to come."

It was... not unexpected, but Zelda still found herself taken aback and just how bluntly the Sprout had said it. But still, she curtsied deeply, head bowed low.

"I thank you for offering us shelter tonight, Great Deku Sprout," she murmured, "And I will ensure that no one enters your realm after this day."

The Sprout did not reply any further, and Zelda turned, making her way out of the meadow to meet the nervous-looking Hilla again, who had been looking around like she was afraid of being jumped.

"We can sleep here tonight," she explained, "And then we will have to make the forest off-limits. Especially the valley - the Sprout says that it's for the Kokiri only. He only said hello, that we were welcome for the night, and then we should never come back."

Unwilling to sleep in the tiny village itself, they instead found a clearing not far away, the ground covered in moss soft enough to sleep on in relative comfort. Surrounded by immense trunks and the leaves forming a dense canopy above their heads, it fell dark long before the sun had properly set, and that was when the star flowers had emerged.

Tiny little points of light, they did not light their surroundings, but instead gave an idea of shape and contour. Zelda had found herself entranced, gazing at one that sat close by her face, the light of the star flowers intermittently joined by the smaller inhabitants of the forest - sprites like flecks of light, occasionally joining in long chains, winding sinuously through the trees.

That night, her dreams were accompanied by the sounds of the ocarina, and a soft stringed instrument that she had first identified as a harp, but had later realised was a violin.

As morning finally rose, the clearing misty and cool and damp, Zelda and Hilla gathered their belongings and made for where Malon would meet them, Zelda giving the forest one last look before turning her back and walking away, ready to start preparing to meet the Gerudo.


	7. Lessons

"- so just for this first time, you can sit up in the saddle, and I'll lead you around the track. All you have to do is stay sitting!"

"I think I can manage that." Zelda managed an uneasy smile down at Malon, perched as she was on the back of a horse (a placid young grey one that Malon had said was particularly good with people). Sitting in a saddle properly, even with a pair of borrowed pants on beneath her dress, felt awkward, the muscles of her legs and hips stretching in ways she was not accustomed to. On top of a horse, she felt off-kilter, a little unbalanced, rather exposed this high up.

This was ridiculous. Sheik had climbed trees and walls and arches and she hadn't felt quite that exposed even then. But sitting on a horse, with Malon patiently holding the reins, and she felt like she was being watched by every unfriendly eye in the land?

Ridiculous.

"Okay, you can start," she told Malon, fighting to keep her voice steady. Flashing Zelda a smile, Malon began to walk, tugging lightly on the reins as she did. Zelda stifled a yelp as her already unstable perch began to move, clinging for dear life.

"Relax, Princess," Malon called over her shoulder, "Cloudy can tell that you're nervous, and you're going to make her nervous, too. And when _she's_ nervous, horses aren't as easy to control."

Right - Zelda nodded briefly, closing her eyes and trying to focus simply on the horse's movements beneath her. And really, compared to being held side saddle while riding at a gallop, this, at least, did give her somewhat more of a sense of control.

The movements were fairly predictable - she just had to adapt to them. She had to move with Cloudy, not against her - she had to time it right, and trust that Malon wouldn't lead Cloudy in to doing anything too unpredictable.

She wouldn't. Would she? Zelda had already told her about how she had never ridden a horse properly, and Malon had promised she would be gentle and take things slowly... it would be fine, wouldn't it?

On the other hand, if riding a horse was the worst problem she had to face, she would be lucky indeed. 

And there was something relaxing about it, if she was honest with herself. Just herself, and Malon, and a horse under the open sky - Hilla had returned home to Kakariko for the next few days, accompanied by Talon (delivering more cheeses to the village), and Ingo was secluded away in barn, taking care of the cows.

It was... peaceful, and as Zelda found herself relaxing, she found the riding easier, too. Malon had been right - keeping herself calm also made for a steadier ride, and she could feel it as her heart stopped hammering quite so frantically.

"When did you first ride a horse?" she asked curiously, and Malon let out a little laugh as she shrugged.

"I have no idea, actually - Dad says that I was born in the saddle. I think I learned how to ride before I learned how to walk." She flashed Zelda a grin. "I'm not saying you'll ever be able to beat me in a race, but if anyone can get you riding, it's me!"

Zelda let out a chuckle, her head turning as she caught something out of the corner of her eye and her expression falling sombre again. "Do you think Epona will be alright?" she called out softly, her gaze on the flaxen mare as she stood alone in the corner of the pasture.

Malon slowed, gazing after her for a moment before moving on. "I don't know. She was only with Link for a really short time, so I'd want to say she'd be okay, but - well, she acts like it was for much longer. I guess she really got to like Fairy Boy, huh?"

"Fairy Boy?" Zelda prompted, hiding the smile the name produced. "Was that because he had Navi with him?"

"Uh huh." Brushing her hair out of her face with one hand, Malon let out a little laugh suddenly. "It was just... such a shock seeing him. Dressed all in green with that weird hat and with that little sword on his back and an actual fairy following him... I mean, everyone hears stories about the Forest Children." She shrugged, a smile still on her face. "I know he's not really a Forest Child, but... it's kind of nice knowing they exist."

Zelda's mind flickered back to the forest, and she let out a hum of agreement. "They should be safe in the forest. I'm going to sign it into law that the valley they live in is off limits to anyone who isn't either a Kokiri or invited by them - the Great Deku Sprout asked me to do that. Not even I will go in there, if they don't want me to."

"I guess they just want to be alone," Malon said softly, "I can understand that. I wouldn't want anyone hurting them."

Making an affirmative sound, Zelda glanced down at Malon. "I think I'm getting the hang of this riding thing," she said with a tentative smile, "You are a very good teacher. Do you think I should try on my own?"

Malon gave her a sudden surprised grin, gratified at the compliment Zelda had given her. "Sure!" she said enthusiastically, turning to Cloudy. "Okay, Cloudy, we just want a nice gentle walk, alright? And Zelda, if you want to make her turn, you pull the reins really lightly to make her head turn. But, uh, she'll probably turn on her own, she's not exactly going to walk into a fence..."

Zelda laughed softly. "That would not be very sensible. Okay..." She sucked in a deep breath, then said, "You can let go, now!"

Malon did so, and a sudden dizzy rush of energy hit Zelda then - she was riding a horse on her own, seated on the saddle like an actual horse rider and not a piece of desperate, terrified luggage clinging to the saddle and to Impa's arms for dear life, the reins in her hands. She had control - well, no, the horse had the control and she was more like a passenger, especially at this early stage, but she trusted Cloudy - and Malon, standing not too far away and watching them like a hawk - to not let her fall.

Once around the track, and she passed Malon again, calling over her shoulder, "I did it!"

"Great!" the ranch girl called back, a delighted laugh in her voice, "Do that one more time, then come back to me and try to stop!"

This was definitely easier than she had assumed, Zelda thought happily as they walked around the track. Admittedly, her legs - and other body parts that a member of the Royal Family generally didn't talk about - were beginning to ache from the dual strains of unfamiliar positions and from the process itself of riding, and she still had to take the bends with care, but at least she could now say with a small amount of confidence that she could ride.

Assuming it was under controlled conditions, on an unusually placid horse, at a speed no greater than a walk.

Alright, so she probably wouldn't be competing in horseback archery in Gerudo Valley - and either way, with the way her hands were locked around the reins, she doubted she'd be able to let go long enough to actually pick up a bow. But if she could get comfortably up to a trot, she could ride in to the valley - that, she hoped, would do more to help her esteem grow in the eyes of the Gerudo rather than riding in in a carriage.

By the end of the day, she was starting to approach an unsupported trot, with her control of a walk approaching, as Malon described it, "Good enough to satisfy them". With an invitation for dinner, Zelda first washed off and then changed into a dress, breathing a soft sigh of relief at the loss of the restricting and uncomfortable pants, wincing a little as she rubbed her sore backside (before glancing around furtively to make sure no one had actually seen the action).

Instead of sleeping downstairs, as she had when Zelda was recovering, Malon this time stayed in her room with Zelda, the bedroll set up a short distance from the bed. Changed into their nightgowns, her aching muscles cradled by the straw mattress, Zelda closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh.

"Thank you for your patience today, Malon," she murmured, her eyes still closed.

"Don't mention it," Malon said lightly, shifting audibly on her bedroll. "I like helping people, right? And if I could help you with this, after everything you did for Hyrule, then that's something, I guess."

Zelda's eyes opened, and she rolled over to gaze at Malon curiously. "But I haven't really done anything," she admitted, "Link did most of the hard work, and - well, I haven't really done anything that good since then."

"You did well with the Gorons, didn't you?" Malon asked, her voice quizzical and her brow furrowed. "And that's hard. Dad says that the Gorons always stick to themselves, but you managed to do well with them - and the Zoras just need more time."

"It was largely due to Link's influence, though," she murmured. "If he hadn't saved them from starvation seven years ago, they wouldn't have been quite so amenable. And if he hadn't saved them from Volvagia, there wouldn't _be_ many Gorons left."

Malon raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Didn't you say that you were the one who sent him to save them in the first place?" she pointed out, "To get that ruby thing?"

"Well, yes," she admitted, "But we actually did need the ruby -"

"And wasn't your bodyguard one of those shadow people?" she continued, missing Zelda's faint wince - the pang of missing Impa never really had gone away. "I mean, you could have sent her to steal it, and you would have never had to deal with the Gorons. But I think it was _your_ idea to send Link to get it, because _you_ could tell he was a really nice boy and would help them."

Almost reluctantly, she quirked a smile. "I suppose so. I'm just grateful it did go so easily - I am not certain we will have as much luck with the Gerudo. Especially since..." She shrugged helplessly. "I did permanently seal away their king."

"After he killed ours," Malon reminded her, her tone deliberately gentle. "Sorry - I know you must miss him. But they started it, and you said that that sage is on your side, right?"

"It's more complicated than that," she winced. "Gerudo Valley hasn't been Hyrulean territory for very long - they united with us just after the civil war. And the relationship between the Hylians and the Gerudo were quite tense after that, anyway - well, Ganondorf was making his plans. Then there was the past seven years..." She shrugged uncomfortably, the weight of what was still to come resting heavily on her. "What I am going to try to do is unprecedented. Ganondorf had only just signed a treaty with my father when he killed him. What I will have to do is go to them, hope they don't want me dead for sealing their king, hope they don't think that _I_ want them dead for one of them killing my father, and arrange a treaty with them as the queen - well, and not even a queen, my coronation will not be until after this - of a country that they had technically invaded for the past seven years."

And now that she had put it in words, the enormity of her task hit her with the suddenness of a swooping guay. Lifting her head only to thump it against the pillow again, she groaned. "That's it. I am going to abdicate, let Hyrule become a republic, and retire to set up my very own library."

Malon stifled a giggle, and even Zelda managed to force a reluctant smile. "Oh, don't say that! You'll be absolutely fine -" She paused suddenly, then said forcefully, "And if you want, I can go with you for moral support? I can pretend I'm your maid, or something!"

Glancing across at her curiously, Zelda pursed her lips. Bring Malon with her into the valley? Certainly, she would enjoy having a friend with her - and she could see the Gerudo being impressed by her riding skills.

Her fiery red hair would not seem too out of place, either, even if her features looked too Hylian to really fit in.

"That - may be possible," she said slowly, "Can you fight at all? They, ah, seem to value that - my bodyguard will be teaching me some basic swordsmanship skills before we leave."

"I can use a bow!" she exclaimed, stifling a yawn, "On horseback, too. I don't really know anything about fighting with a sword, though..."

Letting out a wordless hum, Zelda settled back against the blankets. "Maybe we can both learn... good night, Malon."

"Night, Zelda."

She had used her name. Not drawing attention to it for fear that it had just been something on the spur of the moment and borne from tiredness, Zelda felt a smile cross her face as she let herself drift off to sleep.

 

Malon and Hilla both, it seemed, were good teachers. After a few days rest for Hilla, so that Zelda could concentrate on familiarising herself with riding a horse, she had returned to the ranch, running both of them through basic instructions on how to use a sword.

Electing instead to try to get better with a bow, Malon had sat to one side and watched as Zelda used a wooden practise sword against Hilla, her expression grim and determined.

She was certainly no natural swordswoman; the blade didn't sing in her hand like it had for Link. But Hilla deemed it good enough, and although Zelda had baulked at learning how to use a sword while riding a horse (she had become decently confident with riding, but riding one-handed or no-handed while swinging a sword? That, she was definitely going to pass on), she was more ready to face the Gerudo now.

They would go as a small group of three - just Zelda, her bodyguard, and, as she would explain to the Gerudo, a lady-in-waiting to assist and accompany Zelda in the valley. (Malon, after learning that a lady-in-waiting was generally a woman of noble birth herself, had been quietly pleased at the promotion. Zelda, for her part, was simply wondering if being part of a strong and influential family that provided a vital service for Hyrule was qualification enough.) Equipped with clothing suitable for riding and for the desert, and with provisions for at least a few days should the Gerudo prove to be unwelcoming, they had departed for the valley together.

They were met at the bridge over the gorge that gave the area its name, the official entrance to the valley, by two of the women there. They had dismounted and the two women had checked their bags (for reasons Zelda wasn't even sure about), then urged them to get back up and ride the rest of the way to the fortress. Zelda was uneasy, glancing across at Malon and Hilla nervously while also trying her utmost hardest not to let the Gerudo on.

They had yet to speak, aside from their brief instructions at the bridge, and she could not help but wonder how they would be received. She knew they were expected - she had sent out notification two weeks earlier, and had received acknowledgement and an invitation back - but what if they were less interested in diplomacy and more interested in war, in revenge for the sealing of their former king?

To add to her discomfort, the desert in the evening was, apparently, frigid, and as the sun sank further to the horizon, the temperatures began dropping. When it had been midday, they had been in the middle of the field with the full force of the autumn sun on them - now, though, the shadows were growing as sunlight slowly disappeared.

By the time the fortress came into sight, Zelda was shivering, longing for the thick cloak she had in her pack. Even the Gerudo patrolling outside had conceded to the weather, the thick cloaks they were almost in the style of the outerwear sometimes worn by the Sheikah - concealing, loose, and with a thick raised collar that hid much of the face.

She was all too grateful as they were ushered inside, their horses to be led off to the stables (at the least, she was confident that no harm would come to them - the Gerudo were known for loving horses), the sudden heat of the stone buildings catching her by surprise. "You will be dining with Lady Aveil tonight," one of their escorts told them, "We will show you to your quarters so you may clean up and change out of your travelling clothes. Will an hour be enough time?"

"One hour will be plenty," Zelda murmured, nodding politely to their escort. "And I thank you for providing us with safe passage through the valley."

Surprisingly, the woman grinned. "Don't get too comfortable," she said lightly, "You've still got to impress our leader. Good luck!"

And, her task to take them to their quarters completed, she departed, leaving Zelda feeling distinctly uneasy.


	8. Under the Desert Sky

Lady Aveil, formerly in charge with the Gerudo military and now elevated to their highest level of ruling following Ganondorf being sealed and Nabooru ascending as a Sage, was far less terrifying than Zelda had assumed upon hearing of her military past.

The dinner was small and surprisingly intimate, off in one of the side rooms of the fortress and attended only by Zelda, Malon, and Hilla, and Aveil, her own bodyguard, and two attendants dressed in identical purple, waiting silently by the door.

Facing Aveil across the small table, sitting with her legs folded on a thick cushion on what felt like at least three thick plush rugs beneath them, Zelda found herself relaxing a little, carefully tucking in to the heavily spiced Gerudo cuisine. It was a stew of some sort, hearty and warming down to the tips of her fingers, but with a few seasonal vegetables on the side that she knew grew around the edge of the valley, abundant amounts of thick bread, and a spicy dip that had left Malon gasping and gulping down milk the first time she had tried it.

Aveil had chuckled at this last action, leaving Malon flushed and wincing, her eyes watering. "Trying to get your share of your gift to us?" she had teased, holding up a hand when Malon had stammered a reply. "Relax, it's fine. Besides, that leaves more wine for us."

Zelda, who wasn't quite sure what to make of the wine, either, merely gave Malon an encouraging smile.

"- but the harvest has been... somewhat patchy this year," Aveil continued, turning her attentions back to Zelda. "It simply hasn't been a good growing season, and we did have to send a fair bit to the Grea-- to Ganondorf. It hasn't left a lot in reserve - we will probably have to do a great deal of fishing in the gorge, and trade for other supplies."

Zelda nodded, caught off-guard by the word 'great' that Aveil had been about to insert before Ganondorf's name. "We are in a similar state," she murmured, "With most of our supplies going towards Ganondorf. It may be possible to open trade routes with our neighbours for food, but it may be a rather lean winter for almost all of us. Well," she caught herself, smiling briefly, "I am sure the Gorons will do just fine."

Aveil laughed, tossing back her head and leaving the fiery red ponytail bobbing. "We would all be so lucky if we could eat rocks!" she exclaimed, "Perhaps we should try the sand. But no, it looks like there will be food shortages. There may be competition. We should be prepared for clashes - I will try to control my women on my end, but I can make no guarantees, especially if your men provoke them."

Letting out a faint sigh, Zelda lifted her gaze, meeting Aveil's eyes directly. "I have been thinking," she murmured, "That it is high time that we stopped talking about 'my people' versus 'your people'. Gerudo Valley is a part of Hyrule, and that means that you and all the other Gerudo are citizens just as much as the residents of Kakariko and the other towns and villages are. I will be using every available resource to ensure that people don't go hungry - and that includes the residents of the valley instead. This 'us and them' mindset only harms us all."

Out of sight from Aveil, Malon grinned widely, giving her a thumbs up at the impromptu speech. For Aveil's part, she simply made a thoughtful noise. "Yes, perhaps it is time that we changed. Old habits die hard, though, I'm sure you understand - you are, how old, sixteen?"

She nodded. "Seventeen in the beginning of spring."

"You see, you were born during the Civil War!" Aveil exclaimed, spreading her hands. "You're still so young, and aside from that, you have literally never known a time when Gerudo Valley wasn't under the control of the Hyrulean Royal Family. But as for me, I'm twenty-seven. I was eleven years old when the war ended, and I can remember a time when we weren't just separate peoples, but separate nations altogether. The nine years that your father ruled us for took place when I was beginning to learn about politics and the world in preparation for this role, and we were still very much the 'them' to the Hylians' 'us'." She frowned briefly. "And then, of course, there was the last seven years..."

Zelda nodded, subdued. "This is still very new, though," she admitted. "I have done my greatest period of learning over the past several years, and, well, diplomatic ties with the Gerudo weren't exactly possible then."

Aveil's expression softened, and she reached across the table to rest a hand on Zelda's. "You're still pretty much a kid, and you're a kid who's had a rough deal over the past few years - thanks, in part, to the Really _Not_ So Great After All Ganondorf. I can understand why you would be wary around us - and I use 'us' to refer to the Gerudo as a race, not as a group separate from Hyrule. But, look. My women don't have any huge quarrel with you. Your father, sure, maybe. He made some pretty questionable decisions regarding the Valley. You? You're not him, and honestly, we're more likely to be on good terms with a Queen rather than a King. The Gorons may prefer patriarchies, but for us, a matriarchy suits us just fine."

Zelda managed a small smile there, relaxing a little in her seat. "But doesn't the Gerudo hierarchy indicate that the King is the most powerful position amongst you?" she asked curiously, ignoring Hilla's wince.

"It does," Aveil said, her voice deliberately light. "It's more to ensure that the Gerudo bloodline stays strong - the union of two Gerudo generally isn't, ah, productive, although not for lack of trying amongst some of us." She winked at Zelda, and the princess blinked before the realisation sent her flaming red. "Most of us are part Hylian, it's only the royal line that's staying... _relatively_ pure. Near the end of his life, the king will find an unrelated woman - who's probably part Hylian, admittedly - and give her a boy, and he will do the same, and the line of the king stays 'uncorrupted' that way." She had thrown up the air quotes, looking mildly disgruntled.

"Does that mean that Ganondorf has a son?" Zelda asked slowly, trying hard to ignore the sudden cold sensation that ran down her spine.

Aveil looked thoughtful, though - almost pensive. "No. He didn't. He had four daughters - they're all between eight and thirteen, so not old enough to have children of their own. Maybe in the future, one of them will have a boy, and he will be raised to take over. But until then, there's only me - ah, you know that I'm one of his sisters, right?" Zelda blinked, trying hard not to look too taken aback. "I'm not of royal blood, our mother found a Hylian man - my father, horrible weak man who enjoyed being with my mother for a bit of harmless fun but ran away the instant he learned he had created another of those 'accursed red-headed witches' - but I digress. She was with him after the old king died. But that's actually what gave me this position - that, and being far better with a sword than any of my other sisters." She quirked a smile. "Except Nabooru, perhaps. But she was always more spiritually inclined."

Zelda paused for a long, long while, sorting out the tangled family tree in her mind. "So - you, Nabooru, and Ganondorf were brother and sisters?" she asked slowly, "And Ganondorf had four daughters?"

"Brother and sisters in the Gerudo sense, yes," Aveil confirmed, "Although the Hylian terminology would be half-brother and half-sister. Ganondorf was my older half-brother, Nabooru my younger half-sister, and we all shared the same mother but had different fathers, with Ganondorf's father being the king before him."

Suddenly, Zelda felt very small. "I didn't know that," she murmured, biting her lip suddenly at the thought of four little girls. "I'm - I'm sorry. I didn't know I would be taking someone's brother and father away. I just wanted Hyrule to be safe."

Letting out a sigh, Aveil sat back. "Look, I don't blame you," she said bluntly, "Although I can't guarantee that my nieces won't either. But it's worth pointing out that they didn't know what their father was doing - the youngest was only a baby and the oldest was only seven when he took away _your_ father. I do miss Nabooru. I do not miss him, especially after learning everything he did - everything those horrible women did to Nabs and the other rebels - and he should not have killed your father."

Zelda didn't answer immediately, staring down at her stew. She missed her father, but Aveil also missed her sister. There were, no doubt, other people who had lost friends and family over the war. But if she could do this... if she could end everyone's suffering...

"We have all lost people," she murmured, "Our friends, our family. We've lost the feeling of safety and security, and that is something that's common to all of us." And she looked up, pouring every ounce of determination and compassion and maturity she could muster into her face before continuing softly. "I know this is meant to be dinner, not diplomacy. But we have common grounds, here. The Hylians and the Gerudo have all suffered, both from Ganondorf and from my father. But we are not our fathers or our brothers, and I think we can make a stand that will benefit everyone in Hyrule, Hylian and Gerudo alike."

This had to work - it _had_ to.

A smile crept across Aveil's painted lips, and she folded her hands on the table. "You are a wise girl, Princess Zelda," she said gently, and Zelda almost reflexively glanced at the back of her right hand, where faint triangles were hidden by her light gloves. Aveil did not notice, or if she did, she didn't remark upon it. "And I must say, I do want to work on proper agreements with you. But it's going to be harder than that to convince the rest of the Gerudo... are you familiar with the Trial by Steel?"

So she would have to fight. Zelda tried not to let her disappointment and apprehension show too visibly on her face. "I believe so. The Trial by Steel is a fight to show off combat skills?"

"Right," Aveil confirmed. "And let me guess, you have no formal combat training?"

Zelda smiled, a curl of the lips only that did not reach her eyes. "It never came up in the years leading up to the age of nine."

"That's fair enough," Aveil chuckled. "Look, I'll be blunt with you - you'll be fighting our new head of the military, General Savaaru. It's not because we want you to lose - it's because she will have the ability to pitch her fighting at the same level as our beginning rookies. If we put you against an _actual_ rookie, they might, well, try too hard - and quite frankly, it'll look better for you to beat our general instead of some kid who's only just started. And, we're going to give you training in beginner's Gerudo-style scimitar fighting with one of our expert instructors, Joleena. The fight will be in three mornings - you'll have a full two days to prepare, and the aim of the fight will be to either knock your opponent out of a circle or to at least stay in for five minutes. Are those terms acceptable to you?"

Drawing in her breath, Zelda's gaze flickered to Hilla, who gave her a fractional nod, and Malon, who gave her an encouraging smile. And so, turning back to Aveil, she held out a hand. "It is."

Aveil smiled, a proper one that reached her eyes, reaching out to shake Zelda's hand. "Then sleep well tonight, Your Highness - tomorrow, you'll be in Joleena's capable hands. Good luck!"

And as Zelda shook on it, the only thought running through her head was, _I'm going to need it..._

 

The desert sky was _blue_.

Zelda had thought that the sky in Hyrule had been blue, but here, with red rock and golden sand all around them, she was seeing the sky above her in an entirely new light. When the sands rose up and stormed across them, yes, the sky then took on an eerie shade of yellow - but with little wind around that morning, all that was left above them was the most brilliant, almost sapphire, blue sky she had ever had the privilege to see.

Admittedly, she was not about to get the time to see much of it. Across from her stood Joleena, the Gerudo instructor, her pike embedded in the sand at the edge of the makeshift circle, and two very long, very wicked-looking scimitars in her belt. The woman's expression was grim, scrutinising her with piercing eyes, and Zelda had the distinct uncomfortable impression that she was thinking that she was not up to scratch by the standards of her people.

And really, standing in a sandy ring wearing a light, long-sleeved blouse over borrowed Gerudo pants, her hair tied up in a high ponytail to keep it out of her face, Zelda really wasn't feeling particularly up to scratch, either.

Still, she would deliver the best possible performance she could. If it meant gaining the respect of the Gerudo and working out something that could give them sustainable and lasting peace between their two people - no, amongst their fellow citizens of Hyrule - then she would do anything, even facing down an intimidating woman with some very large swords.

A pair of wooden scimitars, the blades wrapped with rope, were tossed towards her. Zelda grabbed them clumsily, glancing down in surprise.

"I'm not sure we can trust you with real knives yet," Joleena told her dryly, slipping her own scimitars out of her belt and - much to Zelda's lasting relief - setting them aside, collecting the wooden ones wrapped in rope herself. "You _will_ be using real ones in the exhibition battle, however, and so will General Savaaru, so it's up to me to make sure we're not sending diced princess back to Hyrule." She laughed, and Zelda stared at her in mild despair. "Oh, lighten up. Mildly cut up, perhaps."

"Right," Zelda said with an uneasy smile, "And - we are already in Hyrule. You are a part of this land too, and that means you will have all the help I can offer as well."

Joleena's gaze softened for a moment, then hardened back up to the steel it was before. "Pretty words," she said neutrally, "Let's see if your conviction on the battle field matches it! Hyahh!"

And she charged.

 

"- and then I ducked under her sword and hit her with my shoulder and I'm not sure whether she deliberately lost her balance, but I won, Malon, I _won_!"

Laughing, Malon held her hands up to placate the mildly hyperactive princess. "I know, I was there! You did a great job," she grinned, "Now, hold still, okay?"

Settling down but still grinning, Zelda did so, letting Malon bind the minor gash on her arm. It hadn't been her only injury in the fight - there was a light graze on the palm of one hand where she had caught herself from falling against the harsh desert rock, and she was definitely going to be feeling those bruises later - but it was the only one that had needed a poultice of red potion and a bandage around it. Malon, whose life on a ranch had meant that she had had more than her fair share of minor scrapes, cuts, and bruises, had offered to patch it up, and Zelda had conceded to her greater experience.

Perhaps, like some of her ancestors, she could learn the healing arts... serve the public both as a ruler and a healer...

"It should help," she whispered, and Malon turned to her quizzically. Instead of explaining her thoughts, Zelda merely shook her head. "Have you got your things together? We should head off right after the lunch if we are to get back to the ranch by nightfall."

"Mm, almost," Malon murmured, sealing off the end of the bandage. "There. While you go clean up, I'll finish off in here. The food here is kind of amazing, but I'm looking forward to home cooking again!"

"Well, there'll be plenty at the feast," Zelda smiled, straightening up. "I will see you there shortly."

Under Hilla's watchful eye, she stood, making her way back to her own room. They would have their feast, Zelda and Aveil would explain the new agreements they would be making, and then they would depart - overnight at the ranch again (and Zelda seemed to be becoming a frequent visitor), before setting off for Kakariko the next morning.

It had been sunny the day of the fight with General Savaaru, and the skies had been clear as evening had approached at the ranch. The next morning, though, the clouds laid low and heavily on the land, occasional thunder rumbling through the sky, the air damp and chilly with the promise of early snow.

It was under these foreboding conditions that Zelda and Hilla arrived back in Kakariko, Hilla stretching languidly as they passed through the gate. "Ah, it's good to be home," she sighed. "It's nearly time for lunch - shall we go to the inn?"

Zelda had agreed, her belongings not so great that they would be cumbersome, and they had departed through the chill air for the inn. The door had closed behind them - and Zelda spun around as the lock slid into place, a man in red moving to stand directly in front of it, a knife at his side.

"Ah, Princess Zelda," came a jovial voice, and Zelda spun back, eyes wide, as the man with the red skulltula calling card strode towards her, "So good to see you again. Welcome back - to my Kakariko."


	9. The Spider's Lair

Zelda's palms were sweating.

She had been 'gently guided' - in reality, prompted at knife point - into one of the rooms at the side, a couple of the lackeys of the man with the red skulltula calling card and her grim-faced bodyguard along with her. There, she had been guided to a seat, and now she had folded her hands, feeling them prickle uncomfortably beneath her gloves.

The man had not yet spoken, merely scrutinising her from across the table, his red cloak tossed casually over one chair and leaving him in stark white. He was daring her to speak first, she thought, for her to ask the questions and not for her to volunteer the answers.

But she had helped overthrow and seal away Ganondorf. She could deal with this man. He had told her back in the graveyard that he was still working out his terms - well, he could deliver them if that was what he wanted. She was not about to beg for information.

He did speak first, and Zelda allowed herself a moment of pride as his mouth opened. "You have been busy, haven't you?" he said, voice deliberately light. "Scurrying all over Hyrule, trying to make friends... you did do well against the Gerudo, didn't you? Ducking under that last blow and knocking the good general out of the ring like that! It's too bad about the Zora and the Kokiri, though, isn't it? It must feel simply _awful_ to be told 'hello, welcome to the forest, please leave forever' like that!"

Zelda blinked. This was new information, and she could not quite find the composure she needed - she had seen very few Hylians over the course of her tour, and she did not think that the Zora or the Gerudo would have spoken. Malon and Talon wouldn't have said anything, and at any rate, she hadn't told Malon what the Deku Sprout had said. The only one that knew was...

Was...

"Did you know," Hilla said conversationally, "That I learned to fight against the Gerudo when we used to raid them back for the things they stole?"

She was fiddling with the pendant again, a little white coin with a flash of red on it, one she tossed through her fingers then let it rest against her chest, the stylised image of a red skulltula imprinted on it.

_No._

"Poor little princess," the man almost cooed. "You're not very bright, are you?"

Her hands weren't just sweating - now, they were beginning to tremble. She clenched them into fists, trying to keep them from shaking visibly.

"If it's any consolation," Hilla continued, "I never actually meant to hurt you. All I had to do was to keep you out of the way, and to report back. Knowledge is power, and all that."

"Why?" Zelda asked directly, the first words she had spoken to either of them since being ushered into the room. "I understand that you -" she jerked a thumb at the man - "Cornered me in the graveyard and made me feel unsafe and that I needed a bodyguard, and then Hilla so conveniently volunteered... but what for? Did you just need me out of the village to take over?"

"Essentially," the man nodded, "Oh, but listen to me, I'm being positively uncivil. Allow me to introduce myself! I am the leader of the Red Skulltulas, and it is we who have been running Hyrule from behind the scenes for the past seven years. You may call me Spider." He tossed his head, the black tattoos - a spider's web, she could see now - visible beneath his hair. "In truth, I very much prefer to be referred to by my _name_ , child. So much more personal than just 'you'."

"In that case," Zelda said frostily, "You can refer to me by my title and name, and _not_ 'child'."

Spider tossed back his head and laughed. "The kitten has claws!" he exclaimed, even Hilla trying to suppress a smirk.

Quietly, Zelda seethed, dropping her hands to her lap so that Spider couldn't see quite how tightly her fists were clenched. "You said back in the graveyard that you were still working out your terms," she snapped. "Tell me what they are."

"Finally, she asks!" he said with an over-exaggerated role of the eyes. "Good girl. Well, they're pretty simple. First, you'll introduce a new tax - for the good of the stability of the kingdom, of course. Naturally, we shall be the collectors. Second, you will allow our members to take positions of power in the merchant classes, and surrender all tax on goods to us. Third, you will appoint several of our members to the council. And fourth, and quite simply, you will not get in our way. If we want to set up a black market, we will. If we want to threaten a few people to get our money, we will. If we decide to add to these demands, then you will obey them. Other than that..." He gave her a lazy smile, and even if he had compared her to a kitten earlier, now he was the one whose expression looked like the cat who had just acquired a rather large quantity of cream. "Well, I guess we can let you keep playing at being a princess."

Zelda kept her face steely, fighting her body to keep her breathing steady, to hold her hands still, to try to slow the frantic hammering of her heart. "And what if I say no?" she said, meeting Spider's gaze directly.

He merely raised his eyebrows. "My dear child, what makes you think that we won't keep doing this anyway? With that Gerudo locked away in his tower and spending more time with monsters than the people he was supposedly ruling, who do you think has _really_ been running Hyrule for all these past years?"

Silently stunned, Zelda made no move to answer.

Spider snorted, shaking his head. "Well. I have to admit, I did see a vacuum in the power rankings when the Gerudo took over, but that had nothing to do with that father of yours being dead. That was more due to the leader of White Wolfos - that was the business organisation that was running Hyrule before we came along - being in the castle when the Gerudo took over. If I recall correctly, he was executed by the Gerudo as well - I guess he didn't want anyone taking his hard-earned power, and the Gerudo didn't want the competition." He let out a laugh, shaking his head.

White Wolfos? There had been organised crime in the castle, even as she grew up? Quietly appalled, her expression twisted. "And why didn't he come after you? If your organisations were the same - shouldn't he have tried to kill you, too?"

Spider shrugged, both hands held out as if to say, 'Hey, what can you do?' "Not really. I was more clever about it - I let him do whatever he wanted, and he let me organise things from the side of the public. The leader of White Wolfos was better at twisting your father's ear directly - well, it seems quite possible that his daughter will be much the same."

Almost revolted at the grin he was now sporting, at the idea of her father being corrupted by some organised crime boss, she turned her head away. "And what if I say no to you?" she repeated, her voice quieter now.

He considered for a moment. "Well, I don't think we can kill you," he mused, "Since it's not like you have any kids we can manipulate yet, and those blasted nobles will never stop squabbling amongst themselves. I think we'll just have to work on quietly encouraging you and hope you give in. Otherwise, well..." He shrugged. "I'd hate to see it taken out on your citizens."

"You're a terrible person," she said in a quiet snarl.

"It pays well." He shrugged, then stood, turning to one of his lackeys. "Fetch the princess some lunch, will you? I'm sure she'll be more willing to listen on a fuller stomach. Shall we go, Hilla?"

Hilla, at the very least, had the good grace to look at least a little embarrassed. "Right. See you around, Princess," she murmured, following Spider and the lackey out, leaving the other still guarding the door.

Zelda finally allowed herself to scowl, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms. Now what? Hyrule, apparently, was terribly corrupted, and this was something she could not blame on Ganondorf. Her father, incorruptible to her child self, had been both the tool of criminal groups and had mistreated the Gerudo to boot. Well, she would hopefully be able to patch things up with the Gerudo - assuming, of course, that Aveil wasn't planning on double crossing her like her now former bodyguard, and just that thought sent betrayal curdling in her stomach... but how would she deal with Spider?

He had mentioned the nobles before, and even if she disliked certain members amongst them heartily, she was absolutely convinced that they wouldn't want the boss of an organised crime group taking over. (Not when, she thought uncharitably, they could be squabbling over who amongst them was going to take over instead.) Would they let her speak with them? If she could get the word out to even one, they could spread the word amongst themselves - and there was safety in numbers. With all of them combined, perhaps they would have enough influence to stop him.

It was a long shot, and she wasn't even sure that it would be permitted. But if they did let her out...

The lackey from earlier appeared at the door, holding a bowl of soup and a piece of bread out on a wooden tray. "Your lunch, uh, your highness," he muttered awkwardly, setting it, a spoon, and a mug of water before her.

At least they weren't planning on starving her, she thought with a sigh as she thanked him only a little reluctantly, and tucked in.

If she could get in contact with even one, however the method, then she could try to get him to relinquish his grip on the town. But she strongly doubted he would be willing to let he leave, and the mail was probably closely watched - they may have had the postman under their control. Sending by bird seemed to be the best option, but the trained birds that they used for the post were in a building of their own.

She bit her lip. If they let her return home...

The bird house was not too far from the road leading to the cemetery. Would they be keeping an eye on anyone approaching from that direction?

In the end, it did not have to be that hard. She had finished her meal, the lackey had returned to take it away, and she told asked him point blank, "I want to speak to your leader again."

He had stammered something and ran out, and several minutes later, Spider made his return, his eyebrows raised. "Have you had a good think about it?" he asked, leaning back against the door frame.

Zelda glared back at him, not rising from her seat. "What's in it for me?" she blustered, clinging to anger like a knife, refusing to let it subside to fear. "Do think about it. What advantage would I have to let you do what you want?"

To his credit, he did seem to consider for a moment. "Aside from keeping your people safe?" he said dryly. "Honestly, it would keep things running smoothly. Hyrule has been run like this for - well, centuries, if I was to hazard a guess. Our groups are a part of the organisational structure of Hyrule, and you're going to have to get into micromanaging if you were to ever lose our influence. We may also be able to provide you with some measure of protection against rival groups." The grin he gave her was almost - almost - fond. "You would be a puppet queen, but you would be _our_ puppet queen."

Zelda's stony expression did not change, and the grin dropped. "I want to consult with the noble class," she finally said. "This will affect them as well - it's only fair that they should have a chance to give their feedback."

He raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to speak before changing his mind, merely shrugging. "I can arrange that. You can send out a bird, and then we'll escort you back to your house."

Quietly grateful that she wouldn't have to sneak through the Shadow Temple, Zelda nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you. It is good to know that even people in your, ah, field of work are still willing to see reason at times."

Snorting at the veiled insult, he shrugged. "Get your things. I'll accompany you myself."

Even if he was a criminal, he was at least true to his word, allowing Zelda to send mail out unadulterated before escorting her back to Impa's house. There, with a guard left outside her door (thankfully - Zelda wasn't sure she could take it if they had been inside, being constantly watched), she had been left on her own for the first time in several days.

Wearily climbing the stairs, she collapsed back on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Now what?

 

The nobles arrived several days later, the hubbub audible even from the house. Zelda was going somewhat stir-crazy - she had essentially been put under house arrest, able to leave only to get meals from the inn, and even then she would be accompanied where ever she went.

She supposed it was like having very overly zealous body guards, although she had the unfortunate feeling that these ones wouldn't mind too much if something had 'conveniently' happened to her. How she wished she had kept some of the Gerudo blades! She still had her own little knife, but that wouldn't do a great deal of good - there were swords, albeit basic ones, on the backs or on the belts of nearly everyone she saw.

Returning to Lon Lon Ranch for more riding lessons was, apparently, out of the question, and Zelda had been left wondering how Malon was. How much did she know about this, anyway? Malon _was_ a part of the merchant class that the Red Skulltulas had most of their dealings with - had they tried to manipulate (or succeeded in manipulating) the ranch?

If they had, she wouldn't be able to find out for some time.

But now, the meeting with the nobles was approaching. With one of the Red Skulltulas positioned inside the room, she leaned in close to Lady Cheri, the nearest, and murmured, "Please make sure your bodyguard doesn't let that man alert anyone."

She nodded once. A brief struggle later, and the man was subdued, and Zelda sighed and began.

"To put things bluntly," she said, "Kakariko Village and Hyrule itself has been compromised. Organised crime gangs are attempting to rule the merchant classes and have tried to coerce me into being a figurehead only. However, we have numbers. If you are willing to align yourself with me, we can regain control of Hyrule ourselves."

Silence met her little announcement.

"The problem is," started Lady Tebor with a sigh, "We already know this, and we deal with it for the most part. But, yes, it is something that is unjust, and something that we probably should do something about."

Lord Elan pursed his lips and considered. "Their organisations have promised me power over the finances of the state if I back them," he confessed. "Would I be able to take on the same role if I back you?"

"In finances?" Zelda blinked, then nodded. "I am in need of someone who is financially minded. I can appoint you for that role."

"In that case, my dear," Lady Difa chipped in immediately, not to be outdone, "I would like a position of power myself! When the Castle Town rebuilding project begins, I would quite like to have a substantial role in planning."

Again, Zelda nodded, turning to each in turn. "Would anyone else like to make demands?" she asked softly.

Lord Monera nodded once, firmly. "I have military training," he told her, "And extensive knowledge of the system. If I could be appointed the head of the military, it would be much obliged."

"Certainly," she murmured, making mental notes of all the demands and requests they had made in order to help her restore the kingdom, a list that was growing longer and longer.

From that point on, though, things would be changing. They had finally called in another lackey, instructing him to find Spider as soon as he could. Mere minutes later, Spider found himself facing an unhappy princess and a room full of nobles, Zelda as composed as she could bring herself to be, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"Spider," she said calmly, "I have decided to decline your offer. Things are going to be changing around here, and it will be the beginning of a more transparent and honest leadership structure. Lord Monera, as the head of the military, you may now take him away."

And as he was escorted out, the nobles breaking into pleased murmurs, she could finally feel she had regained some semblance of control once more.


	10. On a Fine Spring Morning

The curious thing about life was that it had a wonderful tendency to continue.

With the Red Skulltulas no longer an issue, Zelda could return her focus to her kingdom - slowly working on ties with the Zoras, opening trade with some of their neighbours, trading artisan crafts for food to help stave off starvation throughout the winter, setting aside land in the more temperate climates closer to the lake for the growing of crops (with the reluctant assistance of Lord Elan and Lady Karon of Northern Hylia).

But the spring did come. And with spring came an abundance of food and a brightening of spirits, along with the first beginnings of the reconstruction of Castle Town. The pile of rubble that had once been Ganondorf's fortress had been reused (that, at least, which was genuine stone and not an artefact created of dark magic) to rebuild homes and stores and a new marketplace, and the former pit of magma had been turned into a lake, slowly filling up as the spring rains started.

The castle would be built behind that, in the place where the true castle had once sat, and the lake would be a distant memory of a bad dream.

She had hired architects, working with them to design a modest castle with grounds that would be open to the public. Of course, there would be inner sanctums and private courtyards, but she did not wish to be inaccessible - almost the entirety of the ground floor would be open to the public, save for the private halls and stairways that led up to other parts of the castle.

To fund this, she had turned to Lord Elan, learning how to manage the finances of Hyrule. With the smallest possible tax she could set up and still receive enough to fund everything, she could afford to pay a great deal of workers and artisans for it, ensuring that she kept the process slow enough that they would receive a decent sum for their work without also bankrupting Hyrule. The money also needed to go towards repairs, towards ensuring they remained well fed and well clothed, to funding new organisations like a proper Hyrulean military, to providing funding for the merchant classes to produce their wares...

And towards planning her coronation.

She had not wanted anything lavish, protesting that just the amphitheatre in the new Castle Town would be enough. Still, the nobility had insisted, and were furnishing her with a dress and sceptre and a crown, the latter designed as a stylised version of the crest of Hyrule, wings and all. It seemed almost pretentious, although she could not deny that her breath had caught when she had first seen the sketch.

If ever there was a symbol of Hyrule, it was that crown. Now she just had to live up to it.

As the long nights of winter progressed, she had found herself visiting the ranch more, and Malon and Talon had set up one of the spare rooms as a guest bedroom. She had given them the instruction that she was not, when she was there, to be treated as a princess (or, for that matter, a future queen) - she had found herself drawn to the ranch to relax, to enjoy Malon's company, and to continue her riding lessons. (She was up to a reasonably comfortable and halfway confident canter, now, and had taken to wearing leggings and boots under her dresses when she visited.)

And, too, she had visited Gerudo Valley a small handful of times. After the first successful trade with one of their northern neighbours, she had loaded up a large wagon full of food and supplies and had delivered it (with Talon's help, and a borrowed horse from the ranch for herself) personally. It hadn't quite been necessary, Aveil had murmured to her over dinner, a combination of fresh fish from the gorge and some of the supplies she had brought, but it certainly had made an impact - especially on the children, who had greedily claimed pieces of fresh fruit for themselves.

She did seem to have a decent rapport with the children, although she had not yet met Ganondorf's daughters. That would be a meeting for another time, one fraught with tension and unease on all sides. Their father had killed her father, and she in return had sealed their father away... it was definitely something that would have to be handled carefully, and Aveil assured her that she was working on trying to get them to trust her without also completely ruining their view of their father. (She knew, all too well, what it was like to have one's illusions regarding their parents shattered.)

The Gorons she had visited once as well, meeting with Dorok to discuss trade routes over (and through) the mountains. Their northern neighbour, while able to follow the old roads through the valleys, had suggested that they cut tunnels straight through the mountains, and she had put the question to the Gorons. They were expert miners and knew the mountain intimately - if anyone would be able to carve tunnels through it, they would.

To the Zoras, she had sent mail. They had requested, though, to be left alone for some time, coming to terms with the loss of their only heir and trying to work out solutions for the future. There had been rumours, though - rumours that they were beginning to travel even further up the river, to the clear, cold mountain lakes, largely melt water and usually frozen in the winter, which fed the Zora Fountain. It was curious, and she longed to get to the bottom of it - but if the Zoras had requested solitude, then she could at least give them that.

And the Kokiri... the Kokiri, she simply let be.

All over Hyrule, the Hylians were beginning to get their lives back into some semblance of order from the past seven years. Zelda had visited multiple small towns and villages, some she had barely been aware of the existence of, including the more populous cluster of villages between Castle Town and Kakariko, and the busy Lake Hylia district.

She had visited some of the nobles, there - Lord Lant, for all his faults, had been a gracious host when she had visited the lake (and either way, it was definitely more of a comfortable stay than the prickly Lord Elan and Lady Karon, who seemed to personally dislike her for all they got on with her professionally), and Lady Tebor had opened up her forested home. Well out of the way of the parts of the forest inhabited by the Kokiri, the Lady had introduced Zelda to the little trade towns that were scattered through clear parts of the forest, some built over the rivers like inhabitable bridges, others in the roots of the trees, and one rather intriguing one high in the tree tops itself. Zelda had felt a little like a bird up there, but was glad to have her feet on the ground afterwards.

And now spring had arrived, as reassuring and as punctual as clockwork. The winter, thankfully, had been a reasonably mild one, as if it understood that Hyrule was, perhaps, feeling a bit fragile, and as the sparse snows melted, flowers began to spread across the landscape. With their arrival, and the new abundance of food, and, with that, an increase in the goodwill and contentment of Hyrule, came Zelda's seventeenth birthday, and with Zelda's seventeenth birthday came her coronation.

On a fine spring morning, the skies clear and something actually resembling warmth in the air, Zelda gazed out the window at the assembling crowds and spun back to Malon, almost wringing her hands in anxiety. "There are so many people out there!" she exclaimed, her voice at a slightly higher pitch than usual. "What if I say the wrong thing? What if I trip?"

Malon hid a chuckle, helping Zelda shrug on the wrap. "Has that _ever_ happened?" she pointed out in a tone that Zelda was well aware was reasonable, but simply seemed to mock her further in her frazzled state, "I don't think I've ever heard of a coronation where someone has tripped."

"I could be the first!" Zelda insisted, reaching up to fidget with her hair. It was heavy and ornate and strung with little blue jewels, held on with small wires, and her scalp was definitely itching. And the crown would be heavy, to boot - add in the speeches, the music, the crowds, and all in all, she was anticipating a headache by the end of the day.

Her first headache as the queen. What a milestone that would be.

"I really am not sure I feel like a queen," she confided quietly, and Malon paused, setting her hands on her hips. "I still feel like - like I wish my father was here. I don't feel like I should be here."

Sighing, the ranch girl crossed the room, taking a seat next to Zelda. "If it's any consolation," she said sensibly, "I have even less reason to be here than you. I'm just a farm girl, right? At least this is your birthright, you were meant to be a queen!"

Zelda grimaced faintly. "You're here as my guest and my friend and -" She shrugged helplessly. "My moral support. Which, ah, I am very much in need of right now. And," she added pointedly, "If anyone tells you that you're not meant to be here, send them to me and I can tell them to stick their complaints up their - ah - very un-regal thing to say."

Malon didn't even bother trying to stifle her giggling, leaning back against the seat. "Zelda!"

She smiled reluctantly. "Please don't tell anyone I said that."

"Right, but, you see?" she grinned in response, "Just tell that to anyone who bothers you, and you'll have the queen thing down no problem!"

"I don't think that would get me the best reputation." Still, the reluctant smile was threatening to become a laugh, and Malon grinned at the sight.

"You'll be fine," she reassured her, pausing suddenly and looking a little uncertain herself. "Ah - I guess you'll be really busy when you're queen, huh?"

Zelda glanced up at her curiously. There was an inkling of an idea on what had caught her so off-guard - was she, perhaps, wondering just how often they would get to see each other? It seemed almost... egotistical, to assume that Malon would be put-out by the possibility of her lack of presence. But still...

"I can't really be sure," she said uncomfortably. "There may be more official functions, and I may tour our neighbours, but I will not do that while Hyrule is still recovering. Until the castle is built and life is back to as it was before - I really could not say."

Or, preferably, not back to the way it was before, since that was simply no way to do things. The way things were before, the Gerudo were in a desperate situation, the Zoras and the Gorons had been routinely ignored and excluded from anything to do with Hyrule as a whole, and her father had been under the thumb of the criminal underworld, and not fully in control of the kingdom he allegedly was meant to rule.

No, she did not want Hyrule to go back to the way it was before, in the days of her father's reign.

She wanted Hyrule to be _better_.

It would be her own kingdom, and her own reign. And even if she really had no idea what she was doing, she had advisors, people who had some idea of what was actually happening. They could guide her, lead her on her way, and even if she had to resort to her own intuition and knowledge at times, they would be an incredibly useful support system to her. She did not have to do this on her own. Yes, she would have to take into consideration the wishes of the nobility and the merchant classes and the Goron patriarch and the Zora king and the Gerudo ruler and the guardian spirits and every last person in Hyrule.

But ultimately, the decision would be hers, and hers alone.

This was her birthright, her responsibility, her path to follow. This was what it meant to be the queen.

She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, then turned to Malon. "I think I'm ready," she said softly, and finally smiled. "And you will not be rid of me that easily - even queens need riding lessons!"

Malon's expression brightened visibly, and she slid off the seat, curtseying deeply. "It would be my honour, Your Majesty," she intoned solemnly, and Zelda covered her mouth with her hands, desperately stifling giggles.

"Oh no, that sounds so... final!" she exclaimed, and Malon shrugged playfully.

"You're going to have to get used to it." Holding a hand out to Zelda, she wriggled her fingers. "Zelda, you will be an amazing queen. I promise it. And, you know, if you ever need a time out, you know where the ranch is, right?"

"I do," she murmured, hesitating for a moment before standing and pulling Malon into a quick but fierce hug. "Thank you," she whispered, "I think you're my best friend."

Malon, who had frozen when Zelda had hugged her, gave her a brief squeeze back. "The feeling is mutual." And, with perfect timing, the trumpets began to call and a knock came at the door, and she drew away. "I think that's your cue. You'll be fantastic. Good luck!"

Zelda drew herself to her full height (all of a little above five feet), and smiled back gratefully, opening her door for the guard meant to guide her to her starting position. With no words left to say, she only raised a hand in parting, and followed the guard out to meet her destiny.

 

The newly crowned Zelda, Queen of Hyrule, Chosen Daughter of Nayru, Shining Light of the Hylian People, was bored.

And itchy.

And was _definitely_ getting a cramp in her left leg.

Apparently, having ornate dresses fitted in order to have one's royal portrait painted required a great deal more standing around while seamstresses muttered, their mouths full of pins and fabric, and occasionally getting stabbed by aforementioned needles when she shifted than the legends would have had her believe. The afternoon - now that her coronation had passed, the weather had changed and the spring rains were pouring down - had really only served to tell her just how unfortunate her other female ancestors had been, and how lucky her male ancestors, her father included, had been.

All _they_ had had to do was wear their dress military uniform and a cloak. There was certainly no standing around while seamstresses quietly swapped comments about hem styles and embroidery designs, the merits of various styles of sleeves, and whether this fabric draped better than that fabric.

And if the fitting process was this tedious, she couldn't even imagine how bad it would be to actually stand and model to have the painting done!

With a resigned sigh, she lifted her arms as the seamstress indicated, another round of muttering and poking erupting at some apparent flaw in the partially completed dress, pulling a face that thankfully none of them could see. Or, at least, that no one could see until one of the maids pulled the door open, took one look at the apparently ferocious scowl on Zelda's face, and froze in her tracks.

Zelda immediately forced her expression into something more contrite and, well, Queenly. "Can I help you?" she called out, finally getting an end to the muttering of the seamstresses.

"Uh, yes, sorry, Your Majesty, I didn't mean to interrupt you, Your Majesty," she stuttered, and Zelda gave her her most patient smile.

"It isn't a problem, Bel. What did you want?"

"I have a letter!" she squeaked, holding a scroll aloft. "It's from Lord Monera of the - of the Southeastern Plains. It isn't marked confidential - would you like me to read it?"

She nodded once, and the seamstresses resumed their buzzing. "Go ahead."

Bel carefully unfolded the scroll, straightening it out and clearing her throat. "It says - ah - _To Her Majesty the Queen Zelda, I would like to cordially invite you to spend some time at my manor house in the plains of southeastern Hyrule. I will be entertaining a few friends, members of the nobility from our southern neighbours, in one week's time, and I believe it would be most suitable for them to meet Hyrule's new queen. Please send your word back at first convenience - if you so wish, I will send out a carriage to collect you in six days time. With best regards, Lord Monera of the Southeastern Plains._ Um... and that's it."

An invitation to meet with the nobility from their neighbours? It seemed sensible enough, even if it seemed dreadfully dull - Lord Monera was very much a snob, and she could not forget him comparing Kakariko to a refugee camp. But she could still make some useful allies there, and Zelda nodded once. "Thank you, Bel. Please leave the letter here and send for a scribe, I think I will take him up on his offer."

Bel curtseyed low and scurried off, leaving Zelda quite alone with the seamstresses. Well, she thought with resignation, at least the idea of socialising with the nobility would get her out of modelling for royal portraits...


	11. Diplomacy

Six days came and went.

Zelda's days were full, now that she was the queen. There were additional duties on top of the ones she had already been serving in the days and weeks prior to her coronation - not only did she have endless meetings to take part in, endless representatives from all around Hyrule to meet with and discuss matters of the state with, and endless visits to all parts of the kingdom - now, she had international affairs to deal with, sending correspondence to just about every kingdom she could think of.

Many had attended her coronation, and that was one thing. But now there were official treaties to be made, things to organise between them - trade agreements, travel agreements, endless lists of things to do and remember.

It was exhausting, and she found herself looking forward to the trip to Lord Monera's manor house. Even if there would be the opportunity for increasing her ties with other kingdoms, they would not be official diplomatic events, and she would be able to afford to relax just a little. It would be a nice little reprieve in the manor house in the plains - by all accounts, it was a beautiful place, surrounded by cliffs on two sides and the manor house up on a raised section, the little village scattered below. Stands of trees were scattered here and there, but otherwise, it would be the cliffs at their backs and, before them, the plains as far as the eye could see, save for the glimmer of Lake Hylia in the distance.

The day before she was to depart, she had visited the ranch once more, ready for one last riding lesson with Malon. There, they had even raced (Zelda had won, although she was almost positive that that was by Malon's design and not by chance or any skill she possessed) before retreating back to the ranch house to enjoy some lunch.

"Down in the south..." Malon murmured around some bread. "It's a nice area, isn't it? It's pretty isolated, though, from what I've heard - they don't even buy our milk, they have their own cows."

"South east," Zelda corrected absently, "And it is. I think it might be quite pleasant - a bit of a vacation, I suppose. Well - it won't be entirely leisure, there will be members of the nobility from our southern neighbours."

Malon let out a shrug, taking a sip of her milk before continuing. "But you said it's just a casual thing, right? They're meant to be there as guests or something, and you're also going as a guest, so you can just be there as... guests." She flushed, ducking her head. "You know what I mean! It's not an official thing, is what I meant to say."

"I did get what you meant," Zelda chuckled. "And true, but I still do need to make a good impression. It's like..."

She leaned back in her chair, considering for a moment. It wasn't exactly like things had been when she had only been a princess - perhaps the past few months had been more like it, but things had felt different when she had been a child. She had been in the public eye, yes - but she had also not been the reigning monarch. She had been an heir only, and a child besides.

"When you are a part of the Royal Family," she said slowly, "Aside from times when you're not on view to anyone in the public, you belong to Hyrule itself. When I was a child, I was still the responsibility of my father - so even though I was still on public display, I was also answerable mostly to him, and he could make the decision not to expose me to the public too much. I could do the same for when I have a child."

There was a faint wince at the thought. It wasn't that Zelda disliked children - it just seemed to be a bit too soon to think about it.

"But when you are the _queen_ ," she continued, "When you are the absolute reigning monarch, then you are no longer answerable to your parents or anything like that. You are answerable to _all of Hyrule_ , and aside from that, you also represent it in other lands. In the future, historians will judge Hyrule as it is now by every single action I take. If I make a mistake, even if it's a tiny one, then people are going to know about it for centuries." Quirking a humourless smile, she added, "It isn't paranoia if people really are watching your every move."

"All three Goddesses in the Sacred _Realm_ ," Malon sighed, "I think I'm much happier being a ranch girl. My only responsibilities are making sure the horses are well exercised and the cows are happy."

"That sounds nice," Zelda said with a smile at that, biting into a piece of bread. When she swallowed it, she added, "I have to make an entire kingdom happy, and especially the nobility. I suppose that's a bit harder than a herd of cows."

She paused for a moment, then blanched.

"Please do not tell anyone I accidentally compared the nobles of Hyrule to a herd of cows."

"Your secret is safe with me," Malon chuckled, rising as they finished the last of the meal and collecting Zelda's plate. "Besides, nobles are much harder to milk. Or to ride, I suppose!"

Zelda let out a scandalised laugh, covering her face at the horrible mental images that had jumped into her head, one after the other. "You won't tell anyone about my comparison and I won't tell anyone about yours, does that sound agreeable?" she said, desperately holding back giggles. "Oh dear."

"Let me guess - it's really not regal?" Malon laughed from the sink, reaching for the scrubbing brush.

"Definitely not regal. If I burst into laughter the next time I look at one of the nobles, I shall know who to blame."

Malon dropped into an elaborate mock bow, so low that her loose hair fell over her shoulders, almost brushing the floor. "Then my job here is done, Your Worshipfulness."

Burying her face in her arms with half a laugh and half a groan, Zelda realised she had finally found a title she disliked more than 'Your Majesty'...

 

Thankfully, actually meeting with the nobility would involve far fewer comparisons to cows and horses (or, at least, she hoped it would - she doubted Lord Monera, as her host, would take kindly to stifled laughter), and Zelda managed to depart Kakariko (where she was still living until the castle proper had been built, still safe and secure in the familiar surroundings of Impa's old house) with a straight face.

The day was a clear one, and she settled back in the carriage, content to watch the view of Hyrule go by. The path they would initially take was a familiar one, the one that departed from the stables and buildings at Kakariko's foot, meandered over the river, and then stretched towards the ranch. This part of the route was not of issue to her, and she found herself happy to simply sit back and watch.

Around the ranch was the great ring road, and from that point most other roads would stretch. The path they took as they joined, then left the ring road was one that took them through some of the more remote stretches of the plains lands, making their way through agricultural country, where Hyrule's food was grown. Zelda watched this route with fascination, the fields of wheat and barley and oats, the orchards and the vegetable gardens an unfamiliar sight and a marked contrast to the fields of flowers and wild grasses she had seen earlier in the journey.

Here and there, she could see workers tending to the fields, picking the fruit in the orchards. Some of the wagons, she noted, had different emblems emblazoned on them - here was the symbol of Kakariko, there was the symbol of the Lake Hylia region, and there, she noted, was the symbol of the Gerudo. And, pleasingly, here and there were Gerudo workers, too - on her last visit, she had invited them to begin working in the fields as well, gathering their own food in the more clement parts of Hyrule and not just the arid surrounds of the valley.

(Not so pleasingly, she noted that they tended to work alone, or in small groups with other Gerudo. Nowhere did she see Hylians and Gerudo mingling, a shared wariness between the two keeping them far apart.)

At the midpoint of their journey, still in the depths of the agricultural region, they had paused for lunch. Zelda had dined on her own, the driver and the guard conversing quietly, and she had been grateful for the lack of having to socialise and make conversation.

She was content on her own, just herself and the sunshine and the birds that soared in the skies above.

Once they had eaten, the journey continued. The fields of grains and the fruit trees and the vegetable gardens eventually gave way to more plains of grass, not as abundantly flowered as the northern parts of Hyrule, but beautiful in their own way. Tall, elegant stems topped with feathery seed heads bobbed and swayed in the wind, and when Zelda opened the little window on the carriage, she could hear the sound they made when they rubbed together - a soft, whispering noise, like there were secrets being told in this place that day.

She wondered what they were, whether they were speaking of her presence, or of the past several months since Ganondorf had been overthrown, or of the seven years prior, of his bloody reign. And then she shook her head, reaching up to adjust the crown that still did not feel right, smiling faintly at the fact that she had just attributed thought and awareness and intent to blades of _grass_.

These lands, the Central Plains, were the realm of Lady Difa, and Zelda did indeed manage to spy her own manor house at a distance. Still, they were soon approaching Lord Monera's realms, and the change was palpable - where Lady Difa's lands had largely been agricultural with some grasslands, a general sort of inhabited and civilised feeling pervading the place, Lord Monera's lands were on the outskirts and held a new sort of wildness to it.

This was not an area she was familiar with in any way - she and Sheik had travelled there only once or twice to scope out information, and this had been in their earlier days where she had slept more often or not, her child's mind shielded by him from the worst of the horrors they had been exposed to.

So it was with interest that she watched the land rolling by, spotting a treacherous Peahat in the distance and wincing at it. The dangerous creatures were an interesting reminder - they only tended to grow in the wild regions, in regions that were otherwise undisturbed, and during Ganondorf's reign, they had all but vanished. The other monsters, it seemed, had displaced them - now that they were returning, it was a sign that the land was returning to its former and more dangerous state.

It was an interesting dichotomy. Be ruled by a tyrant and face a world full of monsters, or have the land be undisturbed and yet still produce natural hazards that could kill just as easily. It would be possible to hunt down and destroy as many as possible, yes. But they would return. They would always return. They had been there in Hyrule's past, they were here in its present, and, she assumed, they would be there in its future - whatever form that future took.

Her thoughts were torn from the nature of Peahats by the sight of a small village approaching, a few small farms on the outskirts that eventually were replaced by scattered buildings. There was a small temple, and just beyond it laid a market square, the stalls set up and bustling, heads turning as the carriage rolled in. Beyond that laid more houses, generally more self sufficient than those seen in the Castle Town of the past or even Kakariko and hosting their own vegetable gardens, but that was not their destination - Zelda settled back against the seat as the carriage entered the enormous gates and began to climb.

And it would not be a minute too soon. Zelda was beginning to tire, aching from the sometimes jostling trip, longing to stretch her legs. By now, it was late afternoon and rapidly approaching evening, and she was hungry, restless, a little bit sore, and was definitely going to need to do something about the after effects from all the milk she had drunk earlier.

She was greeted at the door by some of the house staff - a porter to carry her luggage (kept fairly minimal, she was not willing to drag her entire wardrobe with her), a housekeeper to show her to the room she was to stay in, and a maid to hurry at the housekeeper's feet, looking almost anxious about pleasing her. Zelda gave the young maid a kind smile, and the girl flushed, ducking her head at the sudden attention. Into the grand foyer they went, decorated with paintings, tapestries, and statues, ornate marble underfoot - vaguely, Zelda wondered who exactly had paid for all of the finery she saw around her.

It seemed to be fairly close in splendour to the castle she had grown up in. Was this funded entirely by the taxes that Lord Monera received from the people who lived on his land? If so, she was going to have to rethink the distribution of funding amongst the nobility...

They ventured up the grand stairs, Zelda's gaze flicking from one painting to the next, her feet sinking into the plush carpet that covered the halls they had now started into. "Your rooms, Your Majesty," the housekeeper murmured, "Will overlook the back of the house and the gardens. You should not have to concern yourself with too many unpleasant views - the cliff will not block much."

She would be facing the cliff? Trying not to look too put-out, Zelda nodded. "That will be perfectly acceptable," she murmured, "And I thank Lord Monera and his household for welcoming me."

Without another word, the housekeeper pushed open the door they came to now and curtseyed, disappearing off into one of the other passages. Which direction had they come? Zelda glanced back, unsure she would be able to navigate the maze-like halls. They had gone up another flight of stairs too, at some point, and Zelda crossed over to the window to gaze out at the gardens nestled between the house and the cliff face.

Making a content sound (the gardens _were_ nice), she turned back to find the porter setting her belongings down neatly, bowing before vanishing silently as well, leaving her alone with just the maid. The girl stammered for a moment.

"Oh, ah - your majesty!" she nearly stuttered, dropping a clumsy curtsey. "I am sure you are tired - would you like me to - to help you dress for the dinner tonight?"

"No, that is perfectly fine," Zelda told her with an encouraging smile, "You have been a great help -?" she tilted her head, looking at the girl questioningly.

"Ah - Shina, ma'am. My name is Shina."

Zelda nodded once. "Then you have been a great help, Shina. Thank you!"

Blushing to the roots of her hair, the girl hurried out again, leaving Zelda alone in the room.

It was a nice little room, she thought. The windows were pretty, panes of clear and coloured glass in small squares. With the light shining in, they would cast colourful reflections on everything, although night was approaching too rapidly for that. The wooden floors were covered in thick, soft rugs, and a full bed adorned with drapery and soft linens stood against one wall. In one corner, to her lasting fascination, was a large piano, and the other corner played host to a small writing desk and chair, next to a chaise covered in silky cushions. A wardrobe stood empty near another door, and through it was an opulent bathroom with a tub big enough to swim in. In the fireplace, a fire crackled cheerfully.

She definitely wanted one of those, she decided as she closed the door behind her.

It did not take her too long to get refreshed, washing her face and changing into a more suitable dress than her sturdy travelling clothes. Adjusting the sleeves at the elbows, she peered at herself in the mirror, brushing back a few stray hairs before settling the crown back in place. She looked... well, presentable at a bare minimum, but hopefully she looked at least a little regal. First impressions, as she had told Malon earlier, counted.

Eventually, the housekeeper came to collect her, curtseying again. "Your Majesty," she murmured, "If you are ready, Lord Monera awaits you in the sitting room for a drink before dinner starts. If you may follow me?"

"Thank you," said said with a smile, following her back through the dizzying maze of corridors and down a flight of stairs she was sure they hadn't come up earlier.

The sitting room was on the second level, and Lord Monera and his guests rose as she entered. "Please welcome Zelda, Queen of Hyrule," the lord announced, one hand flung in her direction. "And Your Majesty, please let me be the first to welcome you to my household."

"It is my honour to be here," she said in return, offering a curtsey herself, "I thank you kindly for the hospitality you have already shown me."

Too many pretty words, and she may have gagged. Still, there were drinks and dining ahead, and Zelda settled down and began the pleasantries.


	12. Schemes and Plans

Zelda awakened the next morning feeling comfortably warm, nestled in the plush bed that Lord Monera had provided her with. For several long minutes, she luxuriated in the feeling, perhaps drifting back off to sleep once or twice - it was rather nice, being comfortable and content amongst the blankets and pillows (this early in spring, the mornings were still distinctly chilly).

The bed at Impa's house was perfectly comfortable, but this? This was a luxury she was thinking she definitely could do with, once the castle had been reconstructed, and she made a mental note to ask Lord Monera who had made his bed linens.

Eventually, though, she did rise, yawning as she stumbled to the bathroom to refresh herself for the day. With no travel necessary today, she could wear something a little more elegant, and she nodded once at her reflection once she was done before settling on the chaise with one of her books. It would still be a little while until breakfast, and at any rate, she was definitely going to have to have someone guide her through the maze that was the corridors of the manor house.

Breakfast soon arrived, a more subdued affair than the banquet the night before but no less luxurious. Lord Monera, it seemed, had picked out the best fruits that he could get his hands on, and it had given Zelda pause as she recalled the ones that she saw most often in Kakariko.

Away from a castle and personal chefs, Zelda ate more often than not in the inn. Admittedly, she had a booth reserved for her use, but still - she ate the same as anyone else. Lord Monera, however, was definitely living up to his title, and even his breakfast table seemed almost... excessive.

Discomforted, Zelda sipped fresh fruit juice and questioned just how much money the nobility had.

"I hope this is to your satisfaction, Your Majesty," Lord Monera said suddenly, as if in answer to her thoughts. "I know that you've had no choice but to eat the..." He paused, a visible flash of disgust crossing his face. "The more _common_ food in that village. This should hopefully be more than suitable - more like the food you ate as a child, perhaps."

Forcing herself to keep her face neutral, she nodded once. "It does seem to be more reminiscent of the meals I ate in the castle," she agreed blandly, wondering if he would catch the little dig in there - with so much poverty, with the food shortages that they were still recovering from, it seemed almost obscene for the rich to have so much and the poor to have so little.

She would change things. She would try to change things for the better. None of this was necessary, with too much on the table for herself, Lord Monera, and his other guests to even possibly eat, and she wondered about the remainder. Would it go towards the servants in his house, or perhaps to the residents of the village below? Or would it simply be discarded?

If she was to be a queen in a castle, would she be expected to dine like this for every meal? There was an honesty in the food she ate in Kakariko - there, no matter what the circumstances of her birth were, she was the same as everyone else. The same grains, the same fruits and vegetables went towards nourishing her did the same for the rest of Hyrule. But this, this display, this obscene display of wealth served only to set the nobility on a pedestal above everyone else.

She had her major doubts that Lord Monera had ever suffered throughout the years of Ganondorf's rule.

Between the morning and midday meals, she would be free to converse with the visitors from their southern neighbours. They were of the noble class as well - not a part of the Royal Family proper, but more aligned with the status that Lord Monera held himself. Their own king was quite elderly, and Zelda knew him only from his spindly handwriting - they had talked about the issue of succession, with the eldest prince considered to be flighty and unreliable, and with the younger son holding military commitments. There was a daughter, too, closer in age to the elder prince - but in their system, it would be the princes and not the princesses only who were eligible for the throne.

Zelda, a princess who had become a queen and who, by rights of being the first-born of the king, would have become a queen whether she had younger brothers or not, tried not to show her discomfort at the idea.

(And then, quietly, she wondered what it would have been like to have a little brother or a little sister.)

Lunch arrived, the last meal before the other guests would be departing for their own lands. They had spoken more then, of safer topics than just politics - they had spoken of music, of literature, and, briefly, of religion (it seemed that they too followed the Golden Goddesses and saw the Triforce as a symbol of great faith, but also had a complicated system of regional spirits that formed some great network with nodes of power; in turn, Zelda had explained how the Sages were chosen from the races of Hyrule, observing from the Sacred Realm, and how the majority had only awakened recently. Lord Monera had met Impa on at least a few occasions, and gave her a speedy and scrutinising look when she had mentioned the Sage of Shadow).

After lunch, she was free to roam after they had seen the other guests off. There was a library on the same floor as her room, it seemed, and that was one luxury she did want to have in the rebuilt castle (but, perhaps, maybe she could let it be open to the public?) - happily ensconced within its walls, she had spent several content hours reading, pouring over books that she remembered from her younger days. Had these been rescued from the castle before Ganondorf's takeover? Or were these copies of the same editions? Certainly, they were well cared for, their spines kept free from dust and mildew.

Beyond the library, in a little room off to the side, was a music room. She had smiled at the sight of a lyre, and had carefully run her fingers over the fragile strings - but no, it seemed that she did not have quite the same skill Sheik had. Her fingers were more suited to the ocarina, especially one little blue instrument that was safe and secure in Impa's house. Gently, she brushed the tips of her fingers over a similar-looking one with a faintly different shape, and started as an electric tingle shot up her fingers and up her arm, like the shock she sometimes felt after walking over carpet and then touching metal.

That... had been odd.

Dinner had been a reasonably quiet affair, just herself and Lord Monera. She had eaten quietly, her thoughts elsewhere - there had to be a way to work around the excess she saw here. Zelda had been on the run for seven years and then had begun living in a village with other people around her, and living like - well - royalty still felt terribly unusual. It wasn't something she was keen to hurry back to, no matter how nice soft beds, big baths, and private libraries were.

Setting down his spoon as he swallowed his last mouthful of dessert, Lord Monera let out a thoughtful hum, then lifted his head to meet her gaze squarely.

"I am afraid," he said gravely, "That I have invited you here under somewhat false premises."

Zelda lifted her head, startled, her hand tightening around her own spoon. Somewhere in the back of her mind, there had been the question of succession - she was expected to marry, and to marry someone either of royalty or at least nobility.

Lord Monera, as the opulent surroundings did not fail to remind her, was nobility.

Was this what this was? If it was, she was strongly considering riding back to Kakariko that night - there was not a lot of affection towards the lord, and if anything, she felt herself actively disliking the man.

"Is that so?" she questioned, trying hard to keep her voice calm and steady.

He made a small, thoughtful sound. "Let us retire to the drawing room. We may share a drink there while we discuss our terms."

She was silent as she followed him there, her hands clammy. Was this what this was? Lord Monera was, if she remembered correctly, nearing fifty. She was only barely seventeen, and while she was already of marriageable age (and, indeed, some of her ancestors had been married before they had barely entered their teens), she did not want to marry a man old enough to be her father, whose view of the world drew a sharp divide between _us_ and _them_.

Hyrule needed unity to survive. Vaguely, she wondered what would happen if she married someone not of nobility, of the sheer scandal that would cause, and hid a smile.

Lord Monera was silent as he ushered her to a chair and poured them both a drink, handing Zelda's glass across to her and taking a seat himself. "You may have some idea on what I wish to talk to you about," he started, and she tried to hide her sudden unease. "Really, this is something that must be done for the stability of Hyrule and to ensure its future. You may find the idea unpleasant - but it is, unfortunately, necessary."

He paused, glancing across at her, as if trying to determine her reaction. She nodded once, mouth dry.

"The idea that you have," he continued, "Is that I am going to request a political union - that you take me as your prince consort so that you may bear an heir and continue the great line of Hyrule. Is that not correct?"

Again, she nodded, just once. Her hands were clenched around the glass, although she had not yet touched a drop.

"And indeed," he continued, "That is one option we may take. However, what I intend to do to ensure the stability and safety and the _future_ of Hyrule is very, very different." With a gesture, the servant standing by the door turned the key with a deafening click, withdrawing it and dropping it in his pocket. And Zelda, whose sense of danger had just awakened with a vengeance, set her drink down with a thunk and jumped to her feet.

"And just what is it that you intend to do?" she demanded, trying to put some distance between the two.

He laughed, and Zelda froze. "Oh, _do_ sit down, you silly girl. I have no intention to harm or touch you in any way. While you are here, you will be treated with kindness. Your needs will be met - you will not go hungry, we shall arrange entertainment, and you will otherwise have a good life here. However..." His eyes blazed with intensity. "However, I am quite afraid that I cannot allow you to leave this place."

Her nails were digging crescents into her palms even through her gloves, her hands shaking. "You intend to keep me prisoner here?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her voice from trembling.

Monera snorted. " _Prisoner_. Such an overly dramatic turn of phrase - it shows your youth. No, I prefer to think of it as the circumvention of an obstacle."

"Why?" she asked plainly.

He let out a shrug, taking a leisurely sip of his drink; Zelda, still standing, found herself dearly wishing it would explode in his face. "The short version is that you may be almost a woman, but in almost all respects, you are still a child. First," he started, holding one finger up, "You are too young - there have been younger kings and queens, certainly, but their reigns aren't exactly viewed kindly, and the ones that were almost always had chancellors and others managing everything for them. Second, you are too inexperienced - you have missed out on several vital years of learning. Which, admittedly, is not your fault - but it does not make for good queenly material."

He paused to catch his breath, then extended the third finger. "And third, you are a deeply, deeply foolish child and your tiny and pitiful 'reign' since your return has been riddled with mistakes. You announced the rebuilding of the castle without requesting help from anyone, then turned around on your word and showed the people of Hyrule that you cannot be trusted to keep your promises. You walked straight into a trap set by various... elements, and required help to get you out of that sorry situation. You did not take into account the lack of supplies required for the construction project, yet went ahead with it anyway. Quite frankly, you need someone to step in and actually rule for you."

"What do you propose?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Well, there are three options." Monera settled down in his seat, one foot up on his other leg, looking as comfortable as if he was simply discussing a business deal. "The first option is probably the most unpleasant for you, and I would not recommend it. That idea is that you remain here while we set up our own people, working with the good men and women of Red Skulltula -"

She jerked at the name.

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes, I am affiliated with them. It is terribly convenient, after all. Anyway, we are getting sidetracked! You will allow us, being the nobility - certain members, of course, are not keen on the idea, but they will go with whatever is best for Hyrule - and the members of that fine organisation, to take power where it is needed. You will then appoint one of us - I suggest myself - as the new monarch of Hyrule, abdicate, citing your inability to rule competently, and live out the rest of your life quietly as one of my citizens. You do seem to enjoy the, ah, commoners. This, of course, does have a few drawbacks, namely that your blood will be forgotten."

Zelda remained silent, her hands still clenched so tightly they were tingling.

"The second option," he continued, launching ahead regardless of her lack of reaction, "Is a slightly better one. You remain as the Queen of Hyrule, but in reality, you will only be a figurehead. We will trot you out for official functions, but behind the scenes, you will be answerable to us and only to us. We will make all the decisions for you, we will choose a suitable husband for you, we will ensure your child is raised with our values and is educated by us, and then you will abdicate as soon as your heir is old enough."

"And the third option?" she forced out through gritted teeth.

"The third option," he continued, smiling beatifically at her, "Is much the same as the second option. However, in that option, you do in fact marry me, but give the ruling rights to your new and far more experienced husband. You will retain the title of Queen of Hyrule without the necessity and mess of an abdication, but we will all know who will have all the say in things."

And he winked, as if he had simply made some little joke or playful suggestion, as if he had not just told Zelda that they would be stripping her crown away (in practise, if not literally) and allowing Hyrule to be ruled by power-hungry nobles and the criminal underworld.

"What do you say, princess?" he prompted.

"Queen," she replied frostily, "You will refer to me as _Queen_ , as that is my title and mine alone! Do you honestly think I would be willing to go along with these idiotic schemes? The people of Hyrule will not stand for deception and for petty tyrants like yourself!"

He raised an eyebrow, still almost jovial. "No, I think princess suits you better. After all, I do not think you deserve that crown."

She glared at him, willing away the hot tears that threatened to gather in the corners of her eyes.

She had survived exile for seven years. She had helped to seal the Demon King. She had struggled through the first autumn and the long winter and now it was a new spring and she had only just been crowned and now this man wanted to take that away from her...

"I refuse," she snapped, wishing she could make him catch on fire with just her glaring. "And furthermore, I think you are sick. I expect a carriage to be here first thing in the morning to take me back to Kakariko so I may get back to ruling as Queen."

He stared at her for a moment, then let a smirk cross his face. "You are a cute kid, princess," he chuckled, "Trying to give me orders, as if you have any say amongst my household! No, I am afraid that there will be no carriages awaiting you in the morning. You will find your breakfast delivered, and then I will give you some time alone in your rooms to think about what I have said." To his servant, he gestured, and the man crossed the room to take her arm tightly.

"You are a horrible man," she bit out.

He shrugged. "That may be true. And remember this, princess," he added, rising from his seat, his smile falling, "There is also a fourth option, where the young queen _tragically_ loses her life in some accident without ever bearing an heir, leaving her elders and betters behind to take control of the grieving land. The choice is yours. I do hope you choose wisely. Good night, princess."


	13. Lord Monera's House

The first morning waking up as a prisoner, no matter what fancy words Lord Monera coached it in, was not an easy one.

Zelda was ashamed to admit that she had shed a few tears the night before after she had been ushered back to her room, and she had woken up with a headache and itching eyes. It was childish, an act out at something that, right now, seemed terribly futile. It was giving credence to Lord Monera's words - that she was, in fact, only a child, that she was not old enough to be a queen, that she still had far too long a way to go.

What would she do now?

After everything, that was the one question she had to return to. What would she do now? What possible path could she take after this? Lord Monera had, the night before, given her four options. She would not take any of them - there was no way she would step aside and let others allow themselves to take over, giving into greed and corruption. There had to be a way around this - some solution that she could find to prove that she was capable of ruling, that she wanted what was best for Hyrule as well.

Or, at the very least, there had to be a way to escape from her current prison.

But even if she got out of the building, what would she do then? The village below was under Lord Monera's direct rule - although, she conceded, it was possible that they were not aware of their lord's plans and schemes. If that was the case, then they could help her - although she also did not want to run the risk of any innocent people getting hurt for unknowingly helping her escape Lord Monera.

Where were the stables here? If they were in the grounds of the manor house, she could find herself in an uncomfortable situation - the walls were high, and the gates would not open for her, she was fairly certain of that. There were cliffs on two sides, and she had her major doubts that horses knew how to scale cliffs.

If they were in the village, she would stand a better chance. _If_ she managed to get out of her room, and _if_ she managed then to get out of the manor house, and _if_ she was then able to make her way down the long driveway without being seen, then she was fairly sure she would be able to slip through the bars on the gate. They were large ones, ornate and bedecked with filigree at the top but with fairly simple bars at the bottom, and she, if she was brutally honest with herself, was not that big in any dimension. If she could fit her head through, then her shoulders could follow, then her chest, stomach, and hips - and she would be out.

Then, of course, she only had to make her way to these hypothetical stables, overpower or evade anyone standing guard there, steal a horse, and then take off over the fields, most likely in the middle of the night, without actually knowing how to gallop.

She noted it down mentally as a 'maybe'.

Perhaps she could depart from the air? There were rumours of races that lived high in the skies, feathered being that were seen so scarcely they would almost be considered to be legends. If she could make contact with one of them, would they be able to lift her out of the grounds to safety?

Were the cliffs themselves an option? The two walls that surrounded the manor house were sheer and smooth, yes - they were constructed of immense stone blocks and very few gaps could be seen between them. But cliffs were natural features, and she scrutinised the one nearest her window thoughtfully. Could she climb it? If she took it slowly and cautiously, would she be able to make it to the top? And if she did manage to climb up without being spotted, what would await her there? It wasn't enough just to get out of the grounds of the manor house - she also had to get back to somewhere safe.

A fourth option - perhaps she could try to send word somehow, notification that she was being held against her will. And it wasn't as if no one knew she was there - a few in the village knew she was departing to visit the home of one of the nobility, although she could not recall if she had said which one. Malon knew where she was going, and that was of some relief, although she was of the merchant class and not the nobility - her access to information would be limited. The visitors from their southern neighbours - they had seen her there, although it would possibly take them some time to realise that the Queen of Hyrule had not yet returned home, and it was entirely possible that they were in league with Lord Monera anyway. Still, wouldn't someone eventually notice her absence?

And here was a fifth option - she had played the songs that could transport people all around Hyrule along with Sheik If she was fortunate enough to find an instrument that had sufficient magical energy to work with the songs, then perhaps she could simply play the Nocturne of Shadow and find herself back in Kakariko graveyard in an instance. The little ocarina she had seen in the music room - hadn't it tingled against her fingers? Ocarinas (and, admittedly, lyres) tended to be valuable instruments and easy to enrich with magic besides - if she could find one there, perhaps if Lord Monera actually allowed her to roam parts of the manor house on her own, it was possible she could simply leave.

No one knew of the songs. No one save herself, Link (returned to his own time), Sheik (returned to death), and the sages (away in the sacred realm). Lord Monera would not even realise what was happening if he allowed her to get her hands on a musical instrument imbued with magic.

A knock came at the door, and she started violently - still in bed, she dragged the covers up to her chest, calling out a hesitant, "Come in!"

It was a maid, carefully carrying a tray in her hands. Swinging the door shut with her foot, she gave Zelda a smile that looked positively afraid, shuffling over to place the tray on the little writing desk. "Lord Monera sends his compliments and hopes you enjoy your breakfast," she said softly, almost jogging back to the door.

And before she could ask her her name, the girl was gone again, the key turning in the lock from the other side.

Well, at least he wasn't going to starve her. With a sigh of resignation, Zelda slipped out of bed, not bothering with a robe before striding towards the desk.

It was far more basic than her previous meals had been, although this suited her just fine - a small pot of tea sat steaming, accompanied by a bowl of oatmeal drizzled with honey, a thick slice of toasted bread, and some fruit preserves. An apple sat off to one side, although there was no knife to cut it - simply a small spoon for the tea and a larger one for the oatmeal (apparently, they were not taking their chances). In a small jug, apparently meant for the tea, was a small quality of milk.

She tasted it, then pulled a face, sorely missing Lon Lon Milk.

What would Malon think, if she saw her now - a prisoner in a very nice house with a very nice bed and a very nice bathroom and very nice food, but utterly unable to leave?

The meal was, technically, very nice as well. Zelda tasted very little of it, eating mechanically and for the sole reason of keeping up her strength. She missed the ranch. She missed fresh milk and bread that Malon had just made and preserves made from the blackberries that grew at the back of the pastures, but more than that, she missed good company and feeling wanted and freedom. She sipped at her tea, then sniffed angrily, standing and shoving the chair back with an audible squeak against the floorboards.

There was a piano in the room, wasn't there? It was time to see if she could activate the magic of the warp songs from there. Almost throwing herself down on the bench, she played a few scales, working out the notes she needed, and then carefully, slowly plucked out the seven notes that formed the main melody of the Nocturne of Shadow, eyes tightly closed.

She did not quite had the right timing. She played it again, quicker this time, grasping on to the memory of lyre strings and bandaged fingers and a duet between the lyre and the ocarina.

She had not played it hard enough. She struck the keys hard, the tips of her fingers stinging as she played it again and again until she got it right.

She was not focusing properly. She reached out with mind and memory, grasping hold of the image of the graveyard, of the entrance to the Shadow Temple, of Impa, of Sheik, of everything to do with Kakariko Village that she could possibly compile into one image, focusing with all her might, concentrating harder than she had even to seal Ganondorf away from good, repeating in her mind the words, "I want to go home, I want to go home, _I want to go home!!_ "

And she let out a scream of frustration, slamming her fist down on the keys, feeling her breath stolen from her throat and her eyes begin to burn as she started sobbing at her inability to do anything to actually help herself and the sheer hopelessness of it all.

It had not been her best moment.

Zelda had eventually risen from the piano bench, wiping her damp face with her sleeve before trudging into the bathroom to clean up and get dressed for the day. She was going to have to make sure they laundered her clothes, she thought numbly, if she was going to be forced to stay here.

But there was another possibility - a tentative, almost cautious idea. Eventually, one of the maids would return to take her breakfast tray away and to bring her lunch. They would have to clean her room. There was the chance, then to persuade one to help her - she was sure a girl close to her own age would have more sympathies for her, or at least she hoped so.

And if it came to the worst, then she could, possibly just overpower her.

Rather guilty, she collected the uneaten apple from her breakfast tray. If all else failed, she could at least use it as a projectile.

Still, she would really prefer just to convince someone to help her. If the worst came to the worst, could she physically overpower another girl? It was... technically possible. She wasn't completely weak, and she had done decently well in the fight against General Savaaru back in Gerudo Valley (even if she strongly suspected the general had thrown the fight). Even if she was unarmed, if she rushed at someone coming in through the door, would she be able to get out?

But what if there were guards waiting outside the door, for just that eventuality? She could hurt someone who was almost entirely innocent in everything, only to be caught immediately. There was also the minor issue of actually navigating through the halls...

But this was all hypothetical, wasn't it? Zelda let out a sigh, folding her nightgown and setting it beneath one of the pillows before sitting on the edge of the bed - and then collapsing backwards, gazing up at the canopy, her eyes feeling itchy and raw after her bout of crying earlier.

The next time one of the maids come in, she would talk to her, try to determine just how much security there was in there. She would also try to wrangle some time in the library and the music room - the piano was unlikely to have magic within it, and so, thinking more clearly now, of course the songs wouldn't have worked. But Lord Monera seemed to be the type to collect rarities from where ever he could - surely musical instruments imbued with magic would count as a rich and rare treasure?

If only she had thought of bringing the Ocarina of Time with her!

Then and there, Zelda created a new rule for herself - no matter where she went in the future, the ocarina would always accompany her, without fail. Of course, this did assume that she would be able to get out, and that was very much in question...

Questioning the maid who came to deliver her lunch and take away her plate from breakfast did get her, at least, somewhere. It was Shina, the girl who she had seen on her first night, and Zelda had given her a smile as she had hurried to take the plate from her (a bowl of soup, again with a spoon, and a piece of already buttered bread. They _really_ were not taking any chances with knives or even forks, it seemed). "I heard you say something as you came in," she said conversationally as Shina collected her things from breakfast, "Is my room being guarded?"

"Oh, u-um, well -" Shina stuttered, hiding her face behind her hair. "I, uh - just when someone is in here, i-in case you try to run away."

Well, at least that answered that question. Zelda nodded, making a thoughtful sound. "Well, at least it isn't like I am being treated like a dangerous criminal," she said quietly, peering at the girl. "I suppose you know that I am being held here against my will?"

Shina wrung her hands for a moment, shifting from foot to foot. "The - the Lord Monera says that he is - he's trying to convince you to do... something, I'm not really sure what - he says that you have to stay here until you make up your mind..."

"He is trying to force me to abdicate," Zelda told her calmly. "He wants to take the throne for himself, and is trying to discredit me to do so."

She blanched, nearly dropping the teapot.

Zelda let out a sigh. "Look, I promise I will not try to escape on you. But I still need to weigh up my options, and in the mean time, I'm incredibly bored. Could you please ask him if I could visit the library and get something to read, or maybe a musical instrument to play, or anything? Tell him," she added in a sudden boost of inspiration, "That I may be more amenable to listening to him if my needs are met."

Shina nodded quickly, the breakfast things gathered up on the tray. "I'll ask him," she whispered, then added, slightly more loudly, "Please enjoy your lunch, Your Highness!"

If nothing else, Shina was true to her word, even if it did take a while. The day passed, dinner had arrived, and she had slept. The next day, she had awakened, eaten breakfast, eaten lunch, eaten dinner, and slept some more, growing increasingly restless. Then, on her fifth morning there, Lord Monera appeared at her door himself, accompanied by at least two guards. "The maid tells me you wish to visit the library," he said without question.

Zelda stood, hands clutched in front of her. "I would," she told him, "I wish to get historical records and political books. If anything is to happen like you say it is, then I want to be aware of what all the ramifications will be. And," she added, as if an afterthought, "I greatly enjoy music. I would like to find an instrument I can play - I am not very familiar with the piano."

He considered for a moment, then let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I suppose that's acceptable. But don't even think about trying to escape, my men are taller, stronger, faster, and much meaner than you are."

Pulling a face, Zelda crossed to the door nonetheless. "I wouldn't think of it," she muttered, trying to look apathetic and unhappy as she was led to the library.

She would just have to meander for a little while, browse the spines of books as she made for the music room in as direct a manner as she could risk. Once inside, though, she could let out a little sigh of relief, scanning for the ocarina she had seen earlier.

It had tingled, and that was a good indicator of magic - the magical equivalent of spotting something of use in your peripheral vision. She shifted through instruments, then jumped as her fingers brushed its surface, fishing it out.

It was a good enough excuse, really - the Ocarina of Time was a known treasure of the Royal Family.

It was expected that she would reach for a similar instrument.

It was expected that she would position her fingers and raise it to her lips to test its sound quality.

It was not expected that she would play seven simple notes and then let out a cry of agony and feel her legs buckle beneath her as piercing pain shot through her head and down her spine, leaving her limbs twitching and burning, her breathing ragged as she clamped her hands over her ears to block out the shrieking that seemed to have originated from within her own head.

With one booted foot, Lord Monera rolled her over on to her back, gazing down at her. Zelda cringed, anticipating more pain, but instead all he did was drop a handkerchief on the floor.

"Your nose is bleeding," he informed her, and Zelda reached for the cloth with trembling fingers. "It is to be expected when you try to circumvent a magic block. I do hope the lesson was worth it to you, since you will not be leaving your room again. Take her back," he added with a nod to the two guards, who both grasped her under the arms and dragged her to her feet, ignoring the cloth she had been holding to her bloody nose.

They dropped her unceremoniously on the floor when they reached her room, Zelda's legs too weak to support her for the moment. Inside the room, one of the maids was busily cleaning, starting visibly at the sight of two large men dropping the bloodied queen on the floor. One guard jerked his thumb at the girl.

"You. Finish up whatever you're doing and get out."

"Yes sir," the girl murmured, quickly making the bed before making for the door again. Still mostly dazed, Zelda let her vision blur, only just making out the maid's long red hair and the blue eyes that had just winked at her as she had hurried past her...

And then, moments later, Zelda's eyes went wide as she realised just who the maid had been.


	14. Masks

Even with the excitement of realising just who she had seen, Zelda, that day, was still not in any fit shape to do much about it.

She had not received any lunch, and either way, she was not certain she would be able to keep it down. The effects of trying to use magic - and she was sure that she _could_ have used the ocarina, then - while the magic block that Lord Monera had set up was in effect had resulted in the worst headache she could remember for quite some time, her head throbbing painfully whenever she turned it suddenly - or moved at all - or sat up - or laid down - or, on occasions, blinked.

On top of that came other ailments - while the headache was definitely the worst of it, waves of nausea tended to have a very bad habit of washing over her, leaving her doubled over and, on one occasion, fleeing for the nearby bathroom (which, in turn, had not helped her head in the slightest). She felt achy, worse than the aftermath of the fight with General Savaaru or her first few times riding a horse, her muscles trembling with the merest hint of exertion.

Magic blocks, she had discovered, were highly unpleasant if you were a magic user.

Eventually, it did start wearing off, and Zelda picked herself off the bed where she had managed to drag herself after longer than she really would have ever wanted on the floor. She looked like a mess - her hair was mussed, her crown was lying on the floor, and there were spots of blood on the front of her dress from where her nose had bled. Picking out a different dress, she headed into the bathroom, perched on the edge of the expansive bath as she tried to scrub the stain out.

"I liked this dress," she muttered in irritation to herself, vaguely wondering if she could bill Lord Monera for a new one.

Assuming, of course, that she ever got out. If she didn't... well. It was somewhat of a moot point.

A knock at the door made her start, and she dropped the dress she had been working on, tentatively stepping out of the bathroom and wishing she had managed to fix her hair. "Come in," she called warily, and a maid's skirts swished into the room, followed by a tray with a tea pot, cup, and a small cake, and a very familiar face.

"Your Majesty," said Malon with a wink, setting the tray down. "I've brought you something to eat - I hope you enjoy."

"Wait!" Zelda called as she hurried towards her the best she could, pausing to wince at her aching muscles, "Ma--"

Hastily, Malon slammed a finger against her lips, her eyes widening. Shaking her head, she mimed writing something down, then picked up her skirts and hurried out, leaving Zelda feeling almost stricken.

Wait - she had gestured as if she had been writing something. Hurrying for the tray that Malon had left, she scanned it - steaming pot of tea, cup, pitcher of incredibly sub-par milk, a small plate holding some sticky pastry - and there, tucked under the plate with just the corner visible, a note.

She withdrew it, unfolding the sheet with shaking hands.

_Hi Zelda I cannot write much but when you did not come back I got worried so I came here and pretended to sign up for a job._

_I have told dad and he knows that if I am not home in one week then he is to contact the Gerudo._

_Criminals have taken over Kakariko and I think they are trying to take over the Lake Hylia area and the valley but the Gerudo are stopping them. Lady Aveil will probably help you since I think she trusts you a lot more than men._

_They are trying to say you are having a holiday there and are saying lots of bad things about you abandoning your duties and people._

_I can't talk much because all of the house staff have to go to Monera to get the key and there's a guard with us I had to write this earlier and hide it in my skirt. I will try to find a way to be able to talk for longer but for now it will just have to be like this._

_I am going to try to get you out!!_

_BURN THIS NOTE NOW THAT YOU HAVE READ IT!!_

Zelda blinked once, staring down at the urgent letters at the bottom. Nodding once, she reread it, then reread it again for good measure, committing the hastily scrawled letters to memory before tossing it into the hottest part of the fireplace and watching the edges start glowing, the paper turning black as it began to smoulder.

So Malon had followed her here, using some instinct that something had gone wrong. She had integrated herself within the household, and had found a way to make contact.

If she got out - no, with a friend here, _when_ she got out - she was making Malon one of her advisors.

The rest of the news, though - it was troubling. There was already movement in Hyrule, and while their actions may have been subtle enough to go unnoticed by the general public, anyone who knew what to look out for would be able to see the signs. That meant that they were not, in fact, intending to wait for Zelda to make up her mind - they were starting, regardless of her wishes, to take over her home.

For the second time in seven years.

This, however, wasn't the all-out assault that Ganondorf's takeover had been. They had not stormed her home and killed her - no, instead, they had lured her to a faraway location under a pretence that had certainly sounded legitimate. Their attempt at overthrowing her had not involved her death, but rather lies and misinformation and a concentrated effort to ruin her reputation.

And while their methods may have been far more subtle to the citizens of Hyrule, it did leave one rather important thing remaining.

It left her alive, and able to act.

And that was a mistake that, she hoped, would bring an end to their plans once and for all.

 

She did not see Malon much over the next few days.

It seemed that Lord Monera liked to rotate which maids visited her room - perhaps, she speculated cynically, it was to ensure that none of them would build up too much of a rapport with her. Sympathy, she knew, led to dissent amongst the ranks - if anyone had begun to see Zelda as a person and not as a political prisoner, then perhaps they would be inspired to help her out.

It was just too bad for Lord Monera, then, that one of his maids already had a rather significant rapport with Zelda already.

Malon's visits, every one or two days to bring in a meal or to tidy her room, were definite highlights in an otherwise dull day. She had, in fact, received reading material - Lord Monera, however, had seemingly tried to be as patronising as was humanely possible, and had arranged to have dumped a pile of children's literature near the door one morning. Perhaps, he had suggested snidely, she would find these more suitable for her age than the political tomes she had actually requested.

At that point, she had been sorely tempted to throw one of the heavier books at him, and had only refused on the grounds that that was cruelty to perfectly good literature.

Still, there wasn't a great deal of heavy reading to be done, and so it was Malon's duties that she awaited eagerly.

On days when she came bearing a tray, Zelda found herself disappointed - usually, all she could expect was a quick smile, a wink or a grin, and perhaps a note updating her on what was happening outside (dire, as best she could determine - there had been skirmishes near the entrance of the valley that Lord Elan and Lady Karon in Northern Hylia were attributing to attacks by Gerudo thieves, but which Malon interpreted as a pretty lie to cover up the fact that the Gerudo were strongly resisting any Hylians entering the valley - save for, she noted, her father when he delivered milk and now food).

The people were restless. Zelda's name had become synonymous with abandonment, and she had cringed when she had read the note that had mentioned that - the people she had accepted responsibility for were suffering.

On the days, however, when Malon was assigned to clean, Zelda could find herself, just for a little while, relaxing. The charade begun as she entered, with Zelda giving a resigned sigh at the intrusion, and Malon chirping, "Please don't worry yourself about me, miss, I'll be no trouble at all!"

Zelda would answer, "Very well, I will be on the lounge with a book," and then proceed to shadow Malon all over the room, holding whispered conversations while Malon occasionally interjected, more loudly, "I'm just going to make up your bed with clean linens!"

The only downside to companionship, of course, was that it made feeling alone when she left so much worse.

Still, on this day, she had come to clean - and to talk.

"I sent my mail out this morning," she whispered as she shook out the blankets. "She's a cousin, actually, up in the agricultural region - I mean, the one I'm sending it to, I couldn't really send them to the ranch. All she knows is that my name here is Lana and that she's not supposed to let anyone know who I am. She'll ride out and talk to Dad, he'll know what I mean, we set up all these phrases that mean other things before I left, and tomorrow, first thing, he'll go to the valley."

"You put a lot of thought into this!" Zelda whispered back, fighting off a grin. "You don't think there's any chance that Lord Monera will know what your letter means?"

She shook her head, braided hair flying. "No way. Not unless he can interpret, 'I hope my room isn't getting too dusty!' as 'please go to the desert', and 'say hello to all of the cats and dogs for me' as 'find the Gerudo', and 'give the big ginger one a pet for me' as 'talk to Aveil'."

Giggling at the thought of Aveil as a big ginger cat, Zelda nodded, a smile on her face. "Very ingenious! Have you considered working in espionage?"

"Are there horses in espionage?" It was hard to laugh quietly, but she still managed it, partially helped by a hand over her mouth. "I suppose I could have one to escape from my enemies. Or perhaps I already am a spy!"

Zelda raised her eyebrows questioningly, still stifling a laugh.

"Ranch girl by day, super spy by night! But honestly..." Her smile dropped for something more serious. "You get a lot of contacts when you work on a big ranch - when you make deliveries, you get to know all sorts of places, especially early in the morning when people are moving around and getting ready for things. They're not as guarded when they think you're just a delivery girl, so sometimes, they do let things slip. If you need me to, in the future, I probably can just..." She shrugged, ducking behind her bangs. "Keep an eye out on things for you. If I see or hear anything that you should know, I can tell you. It might be useful, having a friendly pair of eyes and ears out, right?"

"It would be," Zelda whispered back. Her throat suddenly felt tight and she did not know why, perhaps simply moved by the prospect of someone who didn't just try to help her out of duty, but because she wanted to.

She had said earlier that Malon was her best friend, and now more than ever, it was apparent.

"Hey," Malon whispered, dropping the pillow she had been fluffing back in place, cautiously wrapping an arm around Zelda's shoulders, "Are you okay?"

Zelda nodded wordlessly, dropping her head to Malon's shoulder.

Malon gave her shoulders a squeeze, tilting her head back against Zelda's as well. "We'll get you out, okay?" she whispered, and there was a soft touch of pressure on Zelda's forehead that she only realised was a kiss after Malon pulled away. "Even if they catch me and throw me out, I'll find an army somewhere and get you out."

"I know you will," Zelda murmured back, "And that is why I can't thank you enough."

Almost reluctantly, Malon broke away, mouthing, "Block your ears?" and then calling out, "If it's okay, miss, I'm finished with the bed, I'm going to start cleaning the bathroom!"

Zelda took a few hasty steps away from her then called back, "Alright, but please do not be long" in the most weary tone she could muster, swapping a grin with Malon as she did so.

The subterfuge, she had to admit, was almost fun.

Following Malon into the bathroom, she took a seat on the edge of the tub as Malon swung the door shut and started scrubbing at the basin with gusto. "Okay, I think we can talk properly now," she sighed, "Three Goddesses, it's frustrating having to whisper all the time."

"Hopefully it won't be for too much longer," Zelda sighed, idly swinging a leg. "What do you think the Gerudo will actually do when they arrive?" A look of consternation crossed her face. "Do you think they _will_ arrive? It seems like..." She considered carefully. The Gerudo were her allies now, and she did get on perfectly well with Aveil - then, 'aiding the enemy' certainly wasn't the right turn of phrase. "It seems like it would be putting a great deal of pressure on them to put themselves out of the way in order to aid someone who _used_ to be an enemy."

Malon made a thoughtful sound, moving on to wipe down the tap ware. "Okay, let's say it was Lady Aveil in your position - that she got captured by some creepy bastard and was being held by false pretences because he wanted her position. Would you go and help her?"

Zelda opened her mouth then closed it again. "I would," she answered almost immediately, "Although it would also be because we have political ties, it wouldn't just be... a personal thing, I suppose. If someone forcibly tried to usurp her, it would leave a political vacuum and massive instability throughout the valley and in Hyrule, and diplomatically, it would be a nightmare."

Hesitating as she straightened up, Malon gently queried, "You wouldn't go just because you and Lady Aveil are friends?"

Zelda bit down on her lip suddenly. "No," she conceded quietly, "I would still go, even if she wasn't the leader of the Gerudo." Glancing up at Malon, she offered her a tentative smile. "I would do the same for you."

Malon let out a chuckle. "I would say I'd do the same for you too, but I'm actually doing that right now." Letting out a soft little sigh, she reached out to grab Zelda's hand. "We _will_ get you out of this stupid place, okay? I might not be really good at all this political stuff, but what they did is really, really wrong. When people find out, they won't be happy."

"I do wonder what will happen if they do," Zelda admitted, "Since he is actually legitimately nobility... I suppose if he has family, they can take his seat. But his reputation will be in tatters, and I would not want the people in the village below to feel like they are being punished due to the actions of one - or more, since we also do not know who was affiliated with him. I suspect the two in Northern Hylia are, they are..." She shrugged. "But that is something we'll have to work out later. For now, the priority should be escaping."

"That's the spirit!" Malon grinned, glancing around hastily to check that no one had heard her slightly louder proclamation. No recrimination came, and she bent down catch Zelda's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get you out, and the bad guys will be punished, and you will go down in history as a really, really good queen. You'll see!"

And no matter how blindly optimistic, potentially unrealistic, and really quite frankly overly hopeful it was, Zelda could not help but smile in return.

Hope, no matter how blind, was something that she needed.


	15. Final Plans

The possibility of impending escape was an intoxicating one to Zelda, and the long stretches of time where she would be left alone, the isolation and the - if she was honest with herself - boredom was not quite so horrible.

Malon was still an intermittent visitor over the next couple of days, and although she had no further news, her presence was still welcoming of only to keep Zelda's spirits high. She had come one more time to clean the room, and their usual charade - of Malon cheerfully calling out what she was doing in her duties as a maid, and of Zelda calling back, disinterested and apathetic, with whispered conversations taking place amidst all this - was almost something approaching light-hearted.

They had spoken of what they would do when Zelda got out. When - not if.

The other maids had seemed almost bemused at Zelda's change in demeanour - one of them had remarked, with a tone of confusion, "You seem chipper today, miss."

Zelda, seated on the chaise with one of the books, merely shrugged, a smile on her face. "If nothing else, Sera, it is a nice day," she pointed out. "It would be nice to be able to walk in the gardens, though."

Sera had bitten her lip, then had blurted out, "I will ask Lord Monera!", set the tray she was carrying down, and hurried off.

If she ever did ask Lord Monera for the chance to walk around the gardens, she did not find out. She did not see Sera serving again over the next day and a half.

Early one morning, a couple of days after their last conversation, Malon and her cleaning equipment showed up again, badly fighting off a grin and visibly excited. "I'll start with the bathroom today, miss!" she called out, then grabbed Zelda's hand and almost dragged her inside.

"What is it?" Zelda asked breathlessly - Malon looked almost fit to burst from excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"I just found out," she said in a rush, glancing around the empty bathroom before leaning in. "Last night, people spotted a lot of weird activity in Gerudo Valley. It looked like about a dozen Gerudo were planning on going somewhere!"

To Zelda's embarrassment, she did not catch Malon's meaning immediately, and merely blinked. "Where are they -" And then she froze (possibly comically, if Malon's hastily stifled giggle was any indication), her eyes widening "Are they coming here? To this house?" she asked urgently, trying hard not to bounce on the balls of her feet as well.

"I think so!" Malon cheered as quietly as she could, "The person who saw them said that quite a few of them were armed - although," she conceded, "A lot of them go armed when they travel. It should take about a day to get here, if they did leave last night or if they left as the first thing this morning - I think you should be ready to go _today_!"

For a moment, Zelda found herself rendered speechless.

She could be free by evening. The possibility was an intoxicating one - she had lost track of the days somewhat since arriving at the manor house, but the sudden dizzying homesickness she felt for Impa's house and for ranch cooking (confusingly combined into one mental image) suggested that it was approaching a decent length of time.

Even more than just missing familiar things, though, was the prospect of not being a prisoner. Even being housebound in Impa's house - no, her house, she had to start thinking of it as her house - with Malon delivering every meal fresh from her kitchen and spending as much time with her as she wanted would have eventually become galling just for the lack of freedom. Tonight, if everything went according to plan, she would be able to go anywhere under her own steam (subject, of course, to the approval of any advisors or bodyguards - she still needed a new bodyguard, didn't she?), she would be able to walk around in the fresh air without an eager jailer watching down on her, she would be able to return to her own life.

As much as the life of a reigning monarch belonged to his or herself, at any rate.

"What do I have to do?" she found herself asking Malon, her voice sounding almost far away even in her own ears. "Before they arrive."

A frown crossed Malon's face. "Well, there's one thing you definitely have to do," she said slowly, "And that would be working out how to get out of the manor house. The Gerudo can back you up, but if they try to break into the house, they could be arrested for - well - trying to trespass on Monera's property, or something. If you've already managed to get out, we can join up with them and they can make sure that he doesn't take you back. Otherwise, they'll have to convince him to let you go, and..." She bit her lip. "He might think you're more valuable as a prisoner."

"Getting out of the manor house..." Zelda echoed, a frown on her face. "There are the windows, I suppose. I know they look small, but the frames are wood, not metal. They look like the frame could break too, if you put enough force on it. But I'm three -" She shook her head, "My apologies, I forgot that the ground is lower at the back. I am four floors above the ground. How am I supposed to get down from there?"

Malon let out a thoughtful hum. "That's a good question," she admitted. "Is there any magic you can use? To cushion your fall or anything like that?"

Zelda shook her head. "Not with the magic block in place, and I have no idea how Lord Monera is generating it. It may be a device, but it may also be magic that another mage has already put in place - or maybe _he_ is the mage. If the block wasn't there, I would just be able to warp out," she added bitterly, giving Malon a sidelong look. "That was why I was, ah, unwell the first day you were here."

"Yeah, you didn't look that good," Malon said sympathetically, letting out a sigh and sitting back. "I think... even after you get out of the house... maybe don't use any magic until you're completely out of the grounds, too, huh? If you get sick like that in the middle of a fight..." She shrugged uncomfortably, glancing away from Zelda's face. "Well, you know. I hope none of the Gerudo try to do magic."

"I know," she sighed, "And we can only hope. I have heard that the Gerudo vastly prefer fighting with their scimitars or halberds, but there have been some Gerudo magic users in the past." And she grimaced, memories of the past seven years rising involuntarily. "As, well, everyone in Hyrule should know far too well by now."

Malon winced. "Well, at least this guy should be easier to take down than Ganondorf, right?" she pointed out practically. "He's only some guy, he's not a super powerful sorcerer who surrounds himself with monsters."

Zelda gave her a mock glare. "You realise that, by saying that, he probably will be, right?" she said dryly, shaking her head and smiling a little to show that she wasn't annoyed. "You have completely jinxed it now!"

"You have my most sincere apologies," Malon said gravely, the corner of her mouth twitching with a badly repressed smile. "However shall I forgive myself? Clearly, I have committed the gravest of sins!"

Giving her a ferocious scowl that dissolved into a laugh in a matter of seconds, Zelda shook her head. "But really, we should try to be prepared for anything. If he _does_ turn out to be a magic user, then the block may not affect him - or, maybe it will, and he would have to deactivate it in order to fight us. If he does, I may be able to help against him." The laughter fading from her face, she stared down at her hands dubiously, recalling how numb her fingers had felt after binding Ganondorf in place. "I think. I don't know. I can... affect how things move, I think - when I was escaping Ganondorf's castle with Link, I could manipulate the doors and gates, and I could hold him in place while Link finished him off."

And then there had been the sealing, binding Ganondorf to the Sacred Realm forever, and sending Link back to his own time - but that had been an extension of her magic as the leader of the Seven Sages, and not her own natural magic. This was something borrowed, a position she had inherited and which would move on to someone else (probably her descendants, in all likelihood) once she died.

Preferably of old age, in her sleep.

But could she use that magic, in a pinch? And how could she use it? The magic used to seal Ganondorf had almost been drained out of her, driven by the Sacred Realm and amplified by the other six sages. She had not been in control; it was not hers to wield. She could not hear the voices of the other sages now, no matter how much she longed to hear Impa's reassurances and advice, and they could no longer help her - this was something she would have to do on her own.

If she could bind Lord Monera in place, if it came down to it... well, she had managed to completely immobilised Ganon, Ganondorf at his most primal, as an enormous and savage beast, and an enormous and savage beast fuelled by hatred and the bitterness of defeat and the Triforce of Power itself.

If it came down to it, would she not be able to hold Lord Monera in place?

And, here was an extra and important question - hold him in place for what? Her role in holding Ganon in place had been so Link could deliver the blow to weaken him enough to bind him - but a killing blow here would not be necessary, or so she at least hoped.

Ganondorf had been a threat to the entirety of Hyrule, having already killed hundreds, and if he had managed to get their pieces of the Triforce, she had no doubts that he would have killed her and Link - or, at least, he would have killed Link, and her fate would have potentially been far worse. There, the only options had been death or permanent imprisonment in a completely different realm.

But for Lord Monera... All she wanted to do, the only thing that mattered, was escaping. Oh, there was no doubt that he would have to be brought to justice - the abduction by coercion and deception of a monarch was still a crime, even if it was a lesser one than mass murder and the assassination of a king.

It may have been treason. Zelda bit her lip - treason carried the sentence of either life imprisonment, permanent banishment, or, in severe cases, execution. Perhaps she would have to bind him in place while --

She shook her head furiously, getting an odd look from Malon. "Lost in thought?" she prompted gently, "You were saying you could make things move, like holding - like holding _certain people_ in place and opening gates. Could you do that here?"

"I - yes, I suppose so," she said shakily, "I think... I think we are going to have to bring Lord Monera into custody. What he did was treason, and that carries, ah, certain penalties." She let out a sigh, reaching up to scrub at her eyes. "What a mess. Either way, this region will be destabilised... if there is no one else that would inherit the seat, it may have to be integrated with another one, perhaps the Central Plains or Eastern Forests. The people who live here may be unhappy, but - well, their lord _has_ committed treason and conspiracy against the throne!"

"You'll make the right choice," Malon urged, "And seriously, the law is on your side. Well. You know. You _are_ the law. What are you worried about?"

"I'm worried that he's right," Zelda murmured, and realised with a sinking heart that it was true. "I - he said that I am too young and inexperienced, and that is unfortunately close to the truth. There were younger kings and queens, one of my great great grandmothers was crowned when she was fourteen, but they had also trained their entire lives for it. I went from being a nine-year-old girl who was still under the care of a nanny, to having to be the sole ruler after seven years on the run. I've never learned the... the correct way, I suppose, of being a queen. And I have made mistakes."

With a thoughtful hum, Malon propped her arms against her knees, scrutinising Zelda closely through her bangs. "I think that's a good thing," she finally said, looking hesitant but hopeful all in one.

Zelda blinked. "How can not knowing anything about how to rule a land be a _good_ thing?" she asked incredulously.

"Because," Malon explained, "It makes you use your instincts. Okay, so you made a few mistakes! That's _normal_. And it means that you're not a really... stuffy, hoity-toity queen. I mean, you could have got a personal chef by now, but you still eat at the inn or at my place and you don't mind helping at the ranch and you live in a normal house. And you said that when you came here, the really rich meals made you think about how the other people around here sometimes go hungry, right?"

Recalling an earlier conversation when she had relayed what her thoughts had been on the first few days in this place, Zelda nodded slowly.

"Well, that means that you're doing something no king or queen's done before!" she exclaimed. "You're thinking about _people_ , and that's a really important thing - I think that's going to make you one of the _great_ queens, instead of just... a regular queen. I mean..." She shrugged a little, letting out a soft laugh. "I know you've had a lot of ancestors, but most people don't remember their names unless they had to study royalty. I can only remember a few, and one's just because she was called Zelda too. But..."

Malon was a little flushed, ducking her head in embarrassment, and Zelda gazed at her thoughtfully. She thought that she would be a great queen? It couldn't have been that easy.

"But," Malon continued quietly, "I think that because you care about people and you've lived amongst them and you've had bad things happen to you instead of just living high up in some castle your entire life and never mingling with the 'common folk' -" She raised her fingers in air quotes, here - "Like Monera, who keeps talking about commoners - he would never be a great king, and that's why he's complete _wrong_ to keep him here. He wants to be king because he wants to rule people. You accepted being queen because you want to help them."

It was definitely a strong endorsement, and Zelda could feel her eyes growing a little damp at Malon's sheer enthusiasm and support. "Thank you," she whispered, and pulled her into a hug.

Laughing softly into Zelda's hair, Malon returned it, bumping their foreheads together before they parted. "Any time."

 

She had made a rope out of sheets and blankets.

She had taken all of the luggage she wanted to keep, then had pulled on the pants and boots that Malon had smuggled her, pulling her dress up to her waist and tying it in a knot, leaving her legs free.

She had dragged the chaise lounge, slowly and with some difficulty, towards the window, knotting the sheet and blanket rope to one leg.

She had moved the piano bench over to the window, ready to shatter it.

She had shoved the wardrobe in front of the door, so that there would be no interruptions.

And now, she waited.

A small group of Gerudo had been seen, just three women, strolling around the tiny village and peering into the few stores. That would be the signal, Malon had told her as she had hastily delivered the pants and boots, just a few to show that they were there.

And then, the humble maid would stroll down the driveway and ask the keepers to open the gate so that she could go and have a drink down at the local inn.

And that was the point where the Gerudo would storm the gate.

What was happening now? Had Malon started down the driveway? When should she break the window? If she broke it too soon, would that alert them and put Malon in danger? If she broke it too late, would that mean she would be caught before even leaving her room?

She listened closely, heard raised voices, shrugged, and threw the piano bench at the window.

Down, down the rope she slithered, gritting her teeth and moving as quickly as she could when she had no choice but to pass the other windows, the ground approaching faster and faster and her crown was slipping over her eyes but there was no time to fix it, no time to do anything other than fall in the most controlled way she could, and then when she was still a floor from the bottom, one of the blankets slipped free of its rope and sent her plummeting the rest of the way.

Zelda hit the garden bed (thankfully flowers and not shrubs) with an "Oof!", dazed for a long moment. And then pushed herself up on to her hands and knees, finding herself none too worse for wear, shaking herself off and beginning to turn.

Only to find the business end of a sword pointed at her face.

"Oh," she said.


	16. The Fight for Freedom

_She hadn't slept well that night._

_Impa had thought that perhaps she had been unwell until she had explained her dreams - dream after endless dream of Hyrule overtaken by a dark cloud, a threat that smothered and choked. She would awaken, her heart pounding and her eyes damp, and, after a while, drift off to sleep again, only for the same process to happen again._

_The day, when she had finally properly risen, had seemed to reflect her mood - the clouds hung low in the hair, ominous and grim. She had sat in her courtyard, fidgeting with the ocarina on her lap, occasionally stealing glances in through the window where her father sat._

_Impa was never far away, and for that, she was grateful. Impa had believed her when she had whispered, after breakfast, that something terrible was going to happen - Impa was the one who had made a trip to the stables to ensure that her horse was ready to go if necessary, who had surreptitiously filled a wallet with a goodly sum of money, who had quietly ordered a courier to carry a few important papers and documents - records of Zelda's birth, an official family tree, the contract she had signed to prove that, yes, she could be considered Zelda's legal guardian should something happen to her father - to her home in Kakariko, along with one of Zelda's favourite books and a doll she had played with when she had been small._

_With Impa's help, Zelda had found herself ready to flee, if necessary._

_They had never told her father._

_They had never told her father, and around the middle of the day, Zelda had made her way to the dining hall to join the king for lunch. They had opened the door to find Ganondorf instead, and blood, so much blood, and Zelda had been screaming and Impa had literally scooped her up under one arm and had fled for the stables, and the clouds overhead and grown thick and black and the rain started pouring down and down..._

The night sky was clear, not a single cloud to block the view of the stars, and Zelda stared up at the sword with something in between concern and outrage.

How dare they? How dare they try to stop her now, when she had already come so far? She had made it out of her room only to be stopped here, and she had no idea if Malon had managed to get out or if the Gerudo were here now, and there was nothing left but to stare up at them and wait.

"When I was nine," she told Lord Monera, her eyes blazing with fury, "I stood in front of Ganondorf and told him that he had overstepped his bounds by entering my private courtyard. And now I will tell you the same - you have by far overstepped your bounds by luring me here by deception and imprisoning me. Put that sword away right now!"

Staring back at her, glaring fit to burst, Lord Monera did not move the sword. "I will say one thing in your favour, princess," he said flatly, "And that is that you certainly show courage. Still, I question how much wisdom you possess, trying to escape. Do you really think you have any power here?"

"Well, very few people have the ability to possess the whole Triforce," she said in a voice as dry as the desert, and the noble blinked, trying to connect her words to his own. "But I don't need power here."

There was movement in the corner of her eye, subtle and small in her peripheral vision. She did not turn to look at it more fully, but merely shifted ever so slightly so that she was now crouching, ready to spring up in an instance.

Lord Monera seemed unmoved. "And why do you not need power, princess?" There was no kindness in his voice, and the sword in his hand did not waver. Zelda decided that she would definitely wait to jump to her feet, lest she receive a rather painful cut.

"Because," she said, her voice glacially cold and saintly calm, "Well... because I am the Queen of Hyrule. And I have _friends_."

And with a war cry, Aveil leaped down from the second floor window sill and kicked the sword out of Lord Monera's hand.

"Go!" she yelled, and suddenly the dozen or so men that Lord Monera had surrounded himself with found themselves besieged by a group of rather irritated Gerudo. "How are things going, kid?" she called out, tossing two scimitars to Zelda hilt first.

She caught them (or, at least, caught one, and the other didn't go too far away), flashing a grin at Aveil. "I'm much better now that you're here!" she called, "How many?"

"Twenty-nine!" Aveil called back, spinning and kicking one of the guards in the face. "Managed to get some Hylians, too - your friend's father was busy!"

Talon had arranged some of this? Zelda blinked, then nodded, making a mental note to be cautious around the various Hylians, to ensure she could distinguish between friend and foe. "Is Malon okay?" she asked urgently, swiping at one of the guards who was now approaching her grimly, "I haven't seen her yet!"

Aveil had just enough time to grunt, "Front gate!" before having to fend off two of the guards who had apparently decided to team up. Zelda nodded, taking off at a run.

Lord Monera, it seemed, had managed to gather his own little army, and including the dozen around the back of the house, they did in fact outnumber the Gerudo. Zelda scanned the crowd urgently, searching for red hair that wasn't pulled into a high Gerudo tail or cut short, spotted Malon, still in her maid's uniform, firing arrows at anyone who came too close, and made a beeline for her.

"Malon!"

She spun around, a grin spreading across her face at the sight of Zelda running towards her, her hair in disarray, her crown crooked, her dress knotted around her waist, and two rather sharp scimitars in her hands. "Glad you could make it!" she shouted, then nocked and arrow and let it fly. Zelda let out a yelp, ducking - it had flown to one side of her, but still rather close, and she spun around to see one of the guards yelling and trying to tug it out of his thigh, his discarded sword at his feet.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly as she hurried to Malon's side. "What happens now?"

"Now, we get you to the gate," Malon explained, drawing another arrow out of her bow and preparing it. "Dad came as well, apparently - he's got the wagon, and our fastest horses hitched up to it - and I have Epona, you can ride with me if y-" She cut herself off suddenly, firing the arrow off to one side and getting a strangled yelp in return "You can ride with me if you need to!" she finished, collecting yet another arrow.

Zelda nodded, then pivoted on one foot, slashing one of her scimitars towards the guard who had been approaching from behind Malon. Malon let out a yelp, jumping out of the way and preparing the arrow, but Zelda had found herself in a proper duel now, and Malon would have been unable to fire without the risk of hitting Zelda herself.

This man was good, his expression grim as he swung his sword towards her. Zelda caught it with one of the scimitars, spinning to deflect it - unused to fighting against someone with swords with a curve to it, he stumbled hard, and Zelda pressed the advantage, aiming at knocking the sword from his hands.

"Go!" she called to Malon, hoping that she would get the message and start for the gate and the wagon, getting it ready for their flight from the manor house. Malon hesitated, then nodded, and Zelda caught sight of a flash of red hair as she started sprinting down the driveway.

"Be a good girl and give up, will you?" the guard growled, twisting and aiming a punch with the hand not holding the sword straight at Zelda's throat. She ducked to one side and felt it graze her ear, wincing at the slight jolt that had produced, then spun to smack his wrist hard with the flat of the scimitar.

Although, honestly, if it had been the edge and not the flat of the blade, she wouldn't have minded too much. Trying to punch someone in the throat was a rather unpleasant tactic, and one that she was not keen to experience.

But aiming for the hand that had aimed at her throat and not the one that held the sword had been a mistake, it seemed, for the next blow of the sword hit her own blades hard enough to make her stagger back a step. And that had been all he had needed to sweep her feet from under her with his own leg, sending Zelda crashing to the ground, one of the scimitars bouncing out of her hand.

And then there was a boot on her stomach, pressing down hard enough to wind her.

"Got her!" the guard called, his voice pitched high and sounding frantic. And before Zelda could struggle, before she could escape, she was being grabbed, her arms twisted behind her back.

"Get off me!" she shouted, and received no answer in reply.

Why wasn't anyone responding to her imminent recapture? She looked around wildly, noticing, with a sinking feeling, that the Gerudo were becoming increasingly outnumbered - more people had arrived from somewhere, many of them wearing white or red or bearing the image of a skulltula -

_Oh no._

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind did she spot him - Spider himself, strolling up to her at a leisurely pace with Lord Monera at his side (who, she was gratified to see, was bleeding from a deep cut in his arm - the last that Zelda had seen of him, Aveil had been about to start on him).

"You _have_ been a naughty little girl, haven't you?" Spider said with a sigh, shaking his head slowly and so exaggerated it looked almost theatrical. "Again and again, we've told you - sit tight, let the grown-ups do all that nasty business stuff, and yet you still insist on jumping in yourself... Well."

His gaze was flat, none of the perverse playfulness she had seen there before. This was a man who was deeply angry, one that she was being held immobilised before and not the other way around. There was a wickedly sharp knife in his hand, one she recognised as being for butchery in the kitchen, and her pulse began to race - this was definitely not the best place to be in.

"You see," he continued conversationally, "For people in my line of work, usurpers to the throne tend to be good for business. Nothing like a bit of oppression for people to flood to the black market and the various places I run! The last seven years were good for me." He shook his head, smiling wistfully. "Good old days. But there happens to be a great opportunity here, you see! I have the potential would-be usurper right here -" He patted Lord Monera on the shoulder, who, to his credit, at least looked a little disgusted - "And what do I have before me, but for the very last member of the Royal Family? It would be _such_ a shame if you died, wouldn't it?"

"And you plan to kill me yourself?" she said softly, meeting his gaze directly.

He tilted his head, shrugging, his hands held out as if to say it was a nasty business, but someone had to do it. "You know," he continued, "I know you probably don't miss your mother, you were only a baby when that plague hit - but I'm sure you miss your father. Wouldn't it be good to see Daddy Dearest again?" He strode forward, resting the tip of the knife under Zelda's upraised chin, directly over her throat. His tone was gentle, almost sweet. "I can do that for you, you know. I can't bring Daddy Dearest back, but I can make sure you get to see him again. What do you say, my poor sweet little child?"

She lifted her chin defiantly, glaring back, refusing to allow herself to show her fear even if her heart was beating so hard she could hear the rush in her ears, even if she could feel her hands grow clammy with sweat and she was beginning to shake. If she was going to die on her knees, then she was going to go out with conviction and fearlessness in her eyes.

And then she smiled. "I forgive you for your cowardice," she said simply, and closed her eyes, waiting for the moment when her throat would be cut.

Somehow, it never came.

After a moment, Zelda opened her eyes, blinking once to clear her vision. Spider was still there - but instead, he was a good step back, the knife having fallen from his nerveless fingers. Lord Monera was looking on in horror, and he was doing so for a very good reason - namely, the blade of a sword protruding out of Spider's chest.

The hands grasping her arms loosened, and Zelda leaped to her feet, backing away several steps.

Spider let out a gurgling noise and then dropped to the grassy lawn, and Zelda found her mouth gaping open as she stared at her saviour. It was not Aveil. It was not one of the Gerudo. It was not even Malon - indeed, it was someone she had never really expected to see again.

"Wow, that felt good," Hilla remarked as she turned to Lord Monera, grinning as she wiped the blood off her sword on his sleeve as he merely stared at her in intermingled horror and terror. "Doing alright, Zelda?"

Zelda only stared.

Hilla shrugged then she spun around, cupping one hand around her mouth. "Right, Skulltulas!" she shouted as loud as she could, "The Spider has been squashed! You answer to me now! Call off your attack or I'll sell you for spare parts!"

"Hilla...?" Zelda started uncertainly. Hadn't Hilla been working for Spider? If that was so, why had she just killed him? Wasn't she meant to - hadn't she been - "What, exactly, is going on?"

"Well," Hilla started cheerfully, "I just offed our former leader and took his place - that's pretty much how succession goes amongst us. I've just taken the name of Spider myself, and that means that they're now under my control, and I've decided that maybe you should, you know, keep your own throne. Want me to take care of this idiot?" she added, jerking a thumb at Lord Monera (who, in a rare show of wisdom, had not moved a muscle).

"No," Zelda said slowly as she straightened to her full height, brushing herself off. "No, he will be brought to justice. I have decided I will let him choose between imprisonment for life, or permanent banishment from Hyrule."

His lips slowly forming the words, "Imprisonment?", Lord Monera jerked. "The latter," he said immediately, eyeing her with something approaching terror.

"That sounds fine by me," she shrugged. "We will take you into custody tonight, however, just to ensure that there are no... misunderstandings." To Hilla, she offered a tentative smile. "And - thank you. But, er, should I be expecting a challenge from you?"

"Not really," the other woman shrugged. "Look, a lot of the shit the old Spider said was kind of true. We tend to make things happen. But I like you, and I can make sure that only the right things happen. Cut out the assassinations, stop threatening to burn people's houses down if they don't pay their debts in time - stuff like that."

Zelda had blanched a little at the idea, but then eventually nodded hesitantly. "You never know," she ventured carefully, "You may even feel the urge to become more legitimate business workers."

Hilla had laughed uproariously at that, and Zelda tried not to think too hard about the reaction.

As things were cleaned up, Zelda found herself sitting on a rock off to one side, watching, deep in thought. Hilla had wrangled the various members of Red Skulltula, which, she had learned, had provided a fair few members of Lord Monera's guards, and had led them away. As for the noble himself, he and his other men had been rounded up by the Gerudo and locked in one of the spare rooms, awaiting the arrival of the royal guard that he was definitely no longer the leader of. Aveil had dropped by just to check up on her, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and letting her know that everyone would know of Monera's crimes by the morning - if nothing else, kidnappings did tend to produce sympathy, even if it was misplaced. She had then collected the Gerudo who were not part of her personal guard and who weren't guarding Monera and his men, and had sent them back off to the valley. The handful of Hylians she had managed to wrangle, almost all from towns between the valley and Monera's village, had gone with them.

And as for Malon, she had settled down on the rock beside Zelda, bumping her shoulder gently with her own.

"It's been a long night," she said with a yawn, and Zelda tilted her head to rest against Malon's shoulder, gazing up at the clear sky and the dazzling field of stars, a milky swath of them etching a line across the deep velvet blue.

"Yes," Zelda murmured, "It has been."


	17. Epilogue - The Calm After The Storm

Zelda stepped out of the house, breathed in the early spring air, and smiled.

She was due in Castle Town today, the town that truly deserved its name now - the shell of the castle and the first floor had just been completed, and she was preparing to go for the official opening. Oh, it wasn't yet totally complete - the apartments that she was supposed to live in were still to be constructed, along with guest rooms for dignitaries, store rooms, and other amusements.

But the main part of the castle was there - the atrium with its stained glass windows and the statue she had commissioned of Link (an admittedly... stylised design), the library, open to anyone who cared to walk through its doors in search of knowledge, the banquet halls, free to be rented out, the gallery, full of paintings and tapestries and statues to showcase the works of every artisan in Hyrule she could find to be represented. (And not just the human ones - there were Gerudo and Goron and Zora works there, too. Gorons, it seemed, had a particularly interpretive style of sculpture that Zelda had found herself enjoying.) The gardens, fully landscaped, were completely public, and it was not uncommon to find young couples walking hand in hand by the lake that had once held a pit of molten rock and a floating abomination, even while the fitting of the castle interior took place.

Beneath it would be the archives and store rooms, secure chambers to keep rare treasures. Behind several heavy doors and a fair few magical wards, she would keep the Ocarina of Time, one of the few treasures of the Royal Family that had survived Ganondorf's assault on her childhood home. There, too, would be comfortable quarters for the servants that would work there, a barracks where the Royal Guard and the Hyrulean military would be stationed, with their offices above on the first floor, and an expansive kitchen.

It would not be used for her. The castle was not for her to live in - she would remain in Kakariko, and the castle would be for official functions and for the use of the people.

Impa's house, then, had been converted. The loft that held the bed had been expanded out to form a true second floor, complete with a private bedroom, bathroom, and sitting room, and a third floor had been added. This would house Bel, the young maid that she had appointed as her official housekeeper, with an extra room for guests (namely, Malon, and sometimes Aveil when she ventured to Kakariko Village for whatever reason), and, for times when she did not feel like doing her work at the table downstairs, a small private study.

It was far smaller than a castle, and far less luxurious. Bel was a good cook and Zelda greatly appreciated the meals she made, but sometimes, she would even find herself doing her own cooking.

She liked it, quite a lot.

And here was the added bonus - she was easily accessible. Even when things would change in the future, especially once she started a family (as she knew she inevitably would have to) and she moved back to the castle, she wanted to ensure that people could come to her with anything they needed. In a castle, removed as she was from everyone else by position and thick stone walls, she could not be reached nearly as easily as she could in her own little house.

Still, it was not very big, and she knew that it was a temporary measure at best. Once she was moved to the castle, she would lose that easy accessibility - already, she was devising methods to stay in touch with people. (Perhaps a weekly public meeting, where members of the public could come to her with any concerns they had about anything?)

"Miss Zelda?" Bel called out (Zelda having begged her after a week to _please_ stop calling her 'Your Majesty' in her own home). "Miss Zelda, are you ready to leave? Miss Malon is waiting for you!"

"I will be in a moment!" she called back, hastily positioning her crown and reaching for her cloak, early spring still being prone to cooler weather. Hurrying down the stairs into the far more open bottom floor, a smile spread across her face at the sight of Malon waiting by the door, dressed in her very best and a few spring wildflowers in her hand.

"I found these out in the pasture this morning!" she said by way of explanation, "I thought you'd like them."

"I'll get some water," Bel murmured.

Zelda accepted them with a smile, breathing in their perfume deeply. "They're beautiful," she murmured, "Thank you so much." Leaning in to give Malon a quick kiss on the cheek, she drew away as Bel approached again. "Ah, thank you."

The flowers seen to, Zelda and Malon set out, followed by a small procession of people (and coming from Kakariko, this included Hylian, Goron, and a few Gerudo who had set up homes and businesses there alike). They were all invited to attend the opening of the castle, and Zelda had found herself chatting to some from Talon's wagon as they rode towards Castle Town.

The town had bloomed.

A little over a year and a half ago, it had been a monster-strewn ruin, not fit for even the bravest person. Now, although it was still growing, it was glorious - the public markets were beginning to overtake Kakariko's in size, and there were more and more people moving from one to the other by the day (a relief to some of the smaller towns and villages around, which had become rather overcrowded during the seven years of Ganondorf's rule).

A little over a year and a half after Ganondorf had been stopped, and Hyrule was well on the road to recovery.

There was a smile on Zelda's face that would not fade as the wagon made its way up the driveway, now patched from the pitting and holes that had riddled it before, both sides lined with flowers. At the gate (a technicality, really, given that they were never actually shut, and, indeed, people could just walk around them), they paused.

Talon drew in a breath, and then called out, "The Queen has returned to her castle!"

Zelda caught her breath. On either side of the road, there were people - Hylian, Gerudo, Goron, and Zora, some cheering and waving and hollering and whooping, some (generally children and some of the more excitable Gorons) jumping up and down, others merely standing respectfully, firing off salutes as she passed. And up to the entrance of the castle they rode, where Talon helped her down.

Aveil stood there on the podium that had been set up earlier, her halberd polished and her jewellery sparkling in the sunlight, offering Zelda a smirk and a wink as she approached. Dorok was grinning, chest puffed out, one large fist bumping against it as she walked up. And in a pool of water sat King Zora XVI, looking solemn but content.

She curtseyed to them. Aveil returned it, Dorok bowing, King Zora merely nodding his head (although, admittedly, she would have feared for his life and the life of anyone within rolling range if he actually had tried to bow). And climbing up on the podium, she turned to face the people of Hyrule.

"Hyrule has faced a great deal of pain over the past seven or eight years," she told them clearly, "And for some of us, it has been even longer. There have been those who have been victim of prejudice and hatred, who have been routinely excluded. Our land is an old one, but Hyrule, Hyrule as a truly unified entity, is still young."

She drew in her breath, scanning the crowd carefully. "I know there have been some of you in this crowd today who have personally faced victimisation from the Royal Family, from the Royal Guards, and from Hyrule as a land. But I stand before you today as your Queen, and in front of all these eyes, I will make this my most solemn promise - _no more_!"

Scattered applause broke up, cut off suddenly as if the clappers had just realised that this wasn't actually a time meant for applauding.

"We have gathered here today for one purpose, and that is to officially open Hyrule Castle. The gardens have been open for some time already, and I know that many of you have already enjoyed it -" In the crowd, she spotted a young couple that she had, in fact, seen there on several occasions, and nodded vaguely in their direction - "And that will most certainly continue. But today, the Castle opens properly, with its facilities, its libraries, its galleries, and its halls, open not just to myself, not just to the nobility, but to each and every single one of you in Hyrule, from the smallest of children to the eldest of our elders. This is not the Castle of the Royal Family. This is the Castle of the People!"

And that did get applause and cheers, wild and raucous. Zelda fought off a grin, catching Malon's eye in the crowd as she gave her two thumbs up, nodding encouragingly.

This was what her father had done wrong. Perhaps, if the end of the Hyrulean Civil War during Zelda's infancy had ended like this, with a castle for all of the unified peoples of Hyrule, then the seven years of Ganondorf's reign may not have happened. Perhaps he would have enjoyed in the bounty that Hyrule offered instead of withering away in the desert; perhaps he wouldn't have determined that the Triforce was his only option.

Perhaps it would have happened anyway.

"The past has been full of atrocities," she continued, her voice a little quieter, a little more subdued. "But I promise to do whatever must be done to ensure that every person on Hyrule, no matter who or what they are, is treated as an equal by myself, by my future family, and under the eyes of our Golden Goddesses. The past can no longer be changed - but we can certainly change the trajectory of our future, and to create a future for our descendants where no one needs to suffer. I owe it to my future children and my future grandchildren, and I owe it to every child and every future child and every future grandchild who walks or will walk in these lands. I will do everything I possibly can to ensure that our future is bright."

She paused here to catch her breath, gazing out at the crowd before her. They had come for the opening of a castle, but she had to convince them now that Hyrule was their land, that the castle was theirs. One day, she would die, and she would no longer be the queen.

But Hyrule would last forever.

"I will not be a leader of the people," she said instead, and peace settled upon her at the declaration. "I will not be the one to order how your lives are led. This is your castle, and I will be a queen _of_ the people - now, and for all the days of my life. This is your future. Enjoy it."

And she stepped back, the great doors flung open, and people began streaming inside - the young and the old, Hylian, Gerudo, Goron, and Zora, the well and the infirm, children and their parents, young couples, people on their own, groups of companions, families and friends and the whole of Hyrule coming to join together as one.

From the crowd, Malon emerged, reaching out to take hold of Zelda's hand and give it a squeeze, the two of them watching as Hyrule moved and swirled around them, and Zelda knew that she would never be alone again.

 

**The End**


End file.
